


Inner Gardens

by Cyndi



Series: Autism isn't a tragedy! [3]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Acceptance, Autism, Autism Acceptance, Autism Spectrum, Autistic, Emotional Abuse, F/M, Friendship, Groot - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Neurodiversity, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Rocket and Groot, Sexual Abuse, actuallyautistic, autistic Groot, autistic headcanon, emetophobes beware, introspective, nonverbal autistic!Groot, nonverbal-autistic!Groot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:25:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4169331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyndi/pseuds/Cyndi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We become what we plant within ourselves. </p><p>Something triggers Groot’s memories of Halfworld, which in turn results in uncontrollable self-injurious meltdowns. The side of himself he never wanted anyone other than Rocket to see(because he was taught to be ashamed of it!) is about to be laid bare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inner Gardens

**Author's Note:**

> Note: And here we are with my third autistic!Groot fic after Being and Always, Really and Forever. This one is loaded with headcanons, so be aware that future movies may negate the pasts I created here. Also, the lack of ".o" dividers between the present and flashbacks is wholly intentional.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING FOR AUTISTIC READERS: There are scenes of self-injurious behavior(SIB) and disturbing flashbacks of abusive ABA-like therapy.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING FOR SEXUAL ABUSE: One of Groot's flashbacks is graphic and may be triggering if you're going through it or survived it.
> 
> Once again, I do not pretend to speak for every autistic person out there because we're all different in how we're affected by it. I illustrate that by hinting at Drax being autistic as well.
> 
> Onward!

_"Love - Devotion._  
_Feeling - Emotion._  
_Don't be afraid to be weak._  
_Don't be too proud to be strong._  
_Just look into your heart, my friend!_  
_That will be the return to yourself,_  
_the return to innocence..."_

\--Enigma, "Return to Innocence"

.o

Life was an inner garden and people were the gardeners.

Unhappy gardeners struggled with the weeds of doubt. Maybe they planted the weeds themselves. Maybe life decided to blow them in on the wind. Maybe somebody else added them because they thought they knew better than the garden's own gardener.

Others carefully weeded, watered, fed and labored until everything bloomed perfectly.

And some weren't sure how others might react to their plants, so they put up impenetrable fences. They rarely let anyone see the fruits of their inner work. Groot kept his fence built high because he was ashamed that he still had weeds. The blasted things grew back faster than he could pull them out.

Nothing prepared him for the storm about to blow his fence away.

The first twinge shot through the right half of his body as he waved his hand past a sensor. Tones rang and the slot machine whirled into motion. Slot machines were Groot's favorite casino game. He cared little whether he won or lost-- he liked the rhythm of inserting a triangular white token, waving at the sensor, watching the symbols spin and seeing the lights flash in sequence.

All around him, the dings, tones and flashing lights of a high-end casino. Every sound had an organized chaos about it that turned it into a weird white noise.

The slots landed on three silver crescent moon symbols. Above them, three purple spheres. Below them, three black chevrons. A rare nine symbol alignment. All at once the machine released a ringing tri-tone and erupted with credit tickets. Groot almost fell face-first against the device. He jumped off his stool and shoved his nearly empty bucket of tokens under the ticket dispenser to catch the plastic yellow rectangles. One bucket wasn't sufficient, so he grabbed an empty one off the next machine over. His winnings filled both buckets to the brim. He scooped up the ones that fell on the floor last.

Rocket's voice shouted over the din, "Are you fuckin' serious? A jackpot on your third round?"

Groot beamed proudly at his raccoon friend.

"Tch! C'mon mister lucky hands, let's go cash that in before you get mugged," Rocket kept talking while leading Groot to the cash-in counter, "Every slot machine you touch puts out. I guess I don't have the t-- no! Don't pour any into my bucket, you idiot! You won it, you keep it!"

Groot made a face at Rocket and dumped his entire winnings into the metal till on the automated counter. Rotating blades separated tokens from credit tickets. Groot punched his account number into the little touch-screen, which used several annoying flashing lights and twinkles to obfuscate which digits he touched. The monetary amount in his personal account jumped up to ten-thousand units. Though he had little use for actual money, it was nice to have some to spend how he wished. A sweeping gesture cleared the screen and wiped his info from the computer's memory. Then he waited patiently by the output slot for his tokens to be returned.

"I am Groot," he remarked casually.

Rocket twitched his ringed tail and sniffed, "Keep playing? You're gonna jinx yourself, so..."

He trailed off and his brown eyes shifted to look over Groot's shoulder. Groot followed his friend's longing gaze to the bar. He stepped in his path, blocking the view. Rocket still hadn't recovered fully from the health crisis caused by his drinking habit. He only just finished the required medications that morning.

" _I am_  Groot."

"Just one drink," Rocket held up a single finger, " _One_  drink."

A frown tensed Groot's brow. He fixed his gaze on a point between Rocket's eyes, crossed his arms and shook his head no. Rocket wasn't winning this argument. So far he'd been great about avoiding booze, but Groot knew his will wouldn't hold out forever with the bar in sight.

They both had complex post-traumatic stress disorder because of Halfworld. Groot felt lucky to escape with lots of bad memories and specific sensory-based triggers. Rocket wasn't so fortunate. He came away with emotional dysregulation issues, random triggers and an addictive personality. Sometimes his addictions came on so sneakily that he didn't realize he had a problem until he couldn't  _stop_. So far, Groot had helped him through addictions to drugs, self-harm and now alcohol.

He could tell Rocket was trying his hardest, but he tended to fall off the wagon often when exposed to temptation.

The bucket clattered with returned tokens. Groot bent to scoop it up by the handle. Unfortunately, his proprioception wasn't at its best that day and he couldn't sense his body or its parts without looking at them. Reaching blindly meant his hand disappeared into a mental void until it smacked into the side of the black counter. A second reach met success. The bucket's thick handle didn't let him make any mistakes about his right hand's location.

Small pains shot through the right half of his body. He switched the bucket to his other hand. The pains ceased immediately and he thought nothing more of them. He did, however, have to  _think_  a little more about it when he walked. Balance, place right foot down, shift weight forward off left leg, bring left leg forward, place left foot down, shift weight forward off right leg, repeat...

"I  **am**  Groot," he ushered Rocket away from the bar.

"Fine, fine," Rocket allowed himself to be led, "What if I got a glass of water?"

Nope, because a glass of water would turn into something boozy once Rocket finished it.

Groot took him to the pillar-type drinking fountain by the restrooms. Kneeling properly required some consideration before he attempted it. His knee became a footstool for Rocket, who drank deeply of the cold water.

Meanwhile, for the millionth time, he studied the black carpet. It had sparkly purple, white and gold zigzag patterns at regular intervals. His eyes followed them to the gold mirrored walls and upwards. Colored light fixtures on the metal ceiling complimented the floor designs beautifully. This casino, the Zag, was aptly named.

"Damn, this ain't any fun without a drink in my hand," Rocket groaned, hopping off Groot's knee. "I think I'll head back to the  _Milano_. I'm bein' triggered to drink. You gonna be okay if I pack in early?"

Groot nodded with his brightest smile. The fact that Rocket was making a true effort to control his drinking meant a lot.

Rocket smiled back a bit sadly, "I'm boring when I'm sober."

No, he wasn't, and Groot told him so while he moved to stand. The command sent to his body didn't match the action he actually did. He _thought_  he stood up until he realized he was on his hands and knees as if to crawl. A second attempt got the result he wanted. He glanced sheepishly at Rocket and shrugged his shoulders. It was one of those nights.

"I am  ** _Groot,_** " he said.

"Yeah, yeah! Head back if you lose all your leftover tokens, okay? You won some good money tonight and it ain't worth it to waste it on the slots."

Groot nodded once. He tailed Rocket at a distance to make sure he didn't make any sneaky pit stops for a drink on the way. There weren't any. He smiled and slipped back into the casino's depths.

.o

"Groot?"

The voice percolated through Groot's awareness. He knew he just spent the past thirty minutes staring at the purple and gold slot machine in front of him without actually playing. Its shape and form registered in his consciousness, yet for the life of him his brain refused to fully process how to work it. He spent hours making it go, and now he couldn't remember how.

Hot throbbing shot across his entire right half. Same rhythm, same intensity, all for the past half hour.  _Something_  hurt. The diffuse sensation only vaguely hinted at what side had the ailing body part. He couldn't pinpoint it. The pain itself screamed inside his wooden skull. Sending signals through his brain was like trying to speak to someone during the dogfight above Xandar-- not even shouting mentally at his extremities made them obey without a struggle.

"Groot?"

Now a green face appeared in his peripheral vision. The voice and face together helped him recognize their owner.

Groot focused on the outer corner of Gamora's left eye. He grunted his acknowledgement. Keeping the pain from overtaking him stole the resources allotted to pronouncing his trademark phrase. Just the grunt took as much effort as lifting a boulder. Gamora had no idea he didn't feel well. Not her fault at all. He knew she wasn't experienced at reading his behavior yet.

She said, "Drax has left the casino and I am returning to the  _Milano_. Quill is still playing cards," a small smile quirked her lips, "He seems to be doing well, so he may be here a while longer."

Groot managed a faint nod. He blinked and Gamora was already gone amidst the glare and sounds. The lights themselves stabbed his eyeballs and sounds grated in his ears. He stumbled against the slot machine as he tried to stand.

"Whoa, lay off the drinks," said someone in passing. Their words barely made sense.

Staying in the casino wasn't a good idea. Groot measured each footstep carefully when he sought out the card tables. Quill was the only person there wearing a dark reddish-brown leather jacket. Groot clapped a hand on his shoulder to get his attention and gestured to the exit.

"Passing out on us?" Quill smirked.

Groot nodded, spotting the full house in Quill's hand. A winning move if played correctly. He patted the man's shoulder to wish him luck and staggered towards the bright white exit symbol. Quill hadn't noticed his unusual demeanor.

At the door, his arm pulled on the handle when he meant to push. He tried four times in a row. Frustrated, he threw himself against the door to shove it open and stumbled outside. Cold wind blasted his unprepared body. He rarely suffered from the hot or cold unless the temperatures were extreme. Tonight, the wind felt like absolute zero slapping all of his molecules to stillness.

Planet Sagevsal was a lovely place in the summer and horribly brutal in the winter. The few twinkling stars that defied the city's light pollution glimmered like ice crystals. Groot wished he didn't feel so horrible-- he wouldn't have minded checking out the wilderness half of the planet to see how the young ecosystem fared in the cold.

The  _Milano_  was housed in a refueling hangar across the bridge from the casino. Groot's dark brown eyes registered the blue and purple glow of the hangar's sign. He reckoned the distance between him and his destination was the same length as the casino from back to front. Another frigid gust battered him. His mental walls shook with the effort to hold firm. He willed his feet into motion.

Diffuse shocks settled into a constant ache. He stopped, closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Tides of pain swallowed everything like seawater covering rocks. His brain literally forgot how to make his legs walk. He opened his eyes. Everything looked grainy, unreal.

Aliens used distracting activities to divert their attention from an intractable irritant. That didn't work for him. Pain was a fire that stayed under control as long as he remained focused on the flame. Distractions caused wild flares and explosions. Surrender was the only way to bear it.

Groot laid himself down and curled up in a tight ball on the stone bridge.

Vehicles whirred. Faint voices drifted on the wind. Trees rustled. Time stretched, slowed, sped up and marched onward without his knowledge.

Recollections of a moment even colder than this trickled free from a buried memory. He remembered the silent airlessness of space and the dim view of a green planet, his beautiful home, burning.

Gas exchange was his way of eliminating wastes. Panic set in once he realized he couldn't breathe. The painful terror brought forth intense fits of self-biting and punching that continued until he lost consciousness.

Ripping sensations and high pitched mechanical noises forced him back to the waking world. Scraps of conversation reached him dimly through the pain.

"...didn't know Ronan was your cousin," said a low voice, "What was he doing trashing a planet full of tree people?"

A smoother voice answered, "I don't know. He never tells me anything."

The machine and misery stopped. Coolness brushed his chest.

"Jormin," the first voice gasped, "this one's heart is  _beating!_ "

His heart looked like interwoven brown and green stems arranged into a bulbous letter X. Two green vines extended off the top while two more flowed from the bottom. The heart's lower half pulled itself upward as the upper section squeezed downward. Each contraction created a twisting motion that rocked the organ side to side.

Groot gasped for air and grabbed at his chest, inadvertently clutching at his own heart. He let go when he felt it pumping and shrieked because that wasn't supposed to be exposed!

"So it-- oh! It's conscious! Get the gas!"

Something rubbery covered his face and everything went blurry. He awoke healed again and lying supine inside some kind of metal tube. The enclosed environment felt strangely comforting. Voices outside it spoke about him.

"Flora Colossi are largely unknown. Few have been seen away from their home planet because of their ability to masquerade as common trees. This one appears to be a mature adult, judging by its size and outer bark. We need to observe its natural behavior to see if it is intelligent. I don't expect much considering the neurological findings..."

These aliens used such a variety of syllables to convey meanings! Groot was familiar with alien speech thanks to stories told by Elders who ventured off-world. Hearing language being used piqued his curiosity because he found it surprisingly easy to understand.

The container jolted into motion without any further words. Maybe these aliens were sending him to his planet's surface again! Being able to tell other Flora Colossi about his wild adventure in space was going to be so great! Excitement bubbled so strongly within him that he squirmed in pure delight to withstand it.

Finally, the entire side of the cylinder fell away with a deafening clang. Elated, Groot sprang out with his hands flapping. No sunlight streaming through foliage. No brown dirt, no wet smells, no flowers...this wasn't home.

The smile dropped off his face. He let his hand flaps transition into grabbing motions to control the nervous tension inside him. His brown eyes scanned the stark metal walls. Bright overhead lights buzzed like swarms of insects. Colorful objects lay piled up on the floor in one corner while a large cylinder holding liquid occupied another.

Groot went for the fluid first. A careful assessment via looking at it, sloshing it, poking his fingers in it, sniffing and lapping it told him he found water. He enjoyed a long drink. Knowing he had water available eased his worst fear and gave him the clarity of mind to look around more. The ceiling in this room wasn't very high-- he had just enough clearance to stand up straight without bumping his head.

The plethora of scattered objects captured Groot's interest next because they stood out against the depressing backdrop. Each item received the same examination as the water. The white cube with shaped holes in all its sides was rather interesting. It sat among rainbow-colored shapes that matched the shaped holes, but he couldn't immediately ascertain what to do with them or how they related to each other. Next to the cube, a shiny green ball no bigger than his fist.

He stuck the rubbery green ball in his mouth and discovered it resisted his teeth nicely. How wonderful, the aliens gave him something to gnaw on! He happily gnashed the ball while he paced the perimeter of the room.

Those buzzing lights bothered him immensely. Finding his body's boundaries grew increasingly difficult, so he vocalized wordlessly to locate his physicality in relation to the environment. His voice created sound and vibrations. Sounds helped shut out the buzz and vibrations let him find his throat. He knew his head sat above that. Everything was there.

Why did the aliens release him into this room?

Puzzled, Groot sat on the floor and picked up one of the odd items-- a miniaturized vehicle of some sort. Silver and shiny with four wheels. He chewed on the ball while he flipped the vehicle upside down to spin its rear right wheel. The holographic pattern on it blurred like a rainbow. Very soothing to look at indeed!

Thuds sounded outside. A panel in the wall slid open and a tall, bald alien with azure skin stepped inside. This alien wore pale gray clothing-- some sort of jumpsuit underneath a long rustling jacket-- and shiny black boots ending in points. Groot's brain took a few moments to assemble the alien's individual features into a unique person. He recognized the broad-shouldered being from his lessons back home. This was a Kree. Male, judging by the horizontal patterns of black dots painted beneath his narrow grayish-purple eyes.

"My name is Jormin, and I am a scientist," the alien said. Wow, they used a lot of syllables even to say simple things.

"Creature," he went on, "I need you to stand up."

Groot didn't want to change his posture. He finally got his limbs into positions where he could find them-- why interrupt it? Rocking back and forth felt better than standing up. Logic dictated the blue alien should sit down, but he didn't.

Jormin inhaled loudly through his pointy nose. "Alien, can you speak?"

Groot spat out the rubber ball he was chewing on.

"I am Groot."

"Oh, good..." The Kree smiled, showing his teeth, "Nice to meet you. Do you know where you are?"

The miniature vehicle's right front tire wobbled and generated interesting rattling noises. Groot flicked it hard to see how loud it could get.

"I am  _Groot?_ " he responded with a question. No, he didn't know where he was, and he wanted answers. If he could understand what these aliens said, surely they understood him!

Jormin's smile tightened as if it required effort to stay on, "Hm, we've established that. Now, about my question. Do you kn--"

" _I_  am  **Groot.** "

"Yes, I know."

"I...am Groot," Groot echoed the alien's tone of voice to show him he was repeating what he said back via meaning rather than so many syllables.

An awkward moment passed where Jormin didn't say anything. Then, he nudged a pile of colorful blocks with the pointed toe of his shiny black boot.

"Can you hand me something square?"

Something square? But there were a lot of square things! The weird cube object with different shaped holes had a square on it, and its sides technically counted as squares too. Did he mean one square thing or all of the square items? Such a non-specific request!

Jormin didn't give Groot time to figure it out. Literally two seconds after he asked, he said, "Touch something blue."

Touch something blue? Groot tapped the blue alien's boot and went back to spinning the miniature vehicle's wheel.

"Hm, very well," Jormin jotted something down on the handheld data pad in his left hand and walked out again without explanations.

Outside the room, his voice spoke to someone else.

"The dead ones weren't suffering from brain damage after all."

 _Dead ones_  froze Groot's movements. His last memory before waking up on a table was seeing his planet burning. Surely someone survived somewhere! He clutched that hope because the alternative seemed unthinkable.

"So they're all like that one?" asked the second voice.

"Apparently so," answered Jormin, "Their neurological condition is congenital and quite severe. This one appears to be especially low-functioning, but I'm sure intensive behavioral modification can turn this useless creature into somebody who can pass undetected among society."

 _Low-functioning_ ,  _severe_  and  _useless_  ripped across Groot's brain like a cruel slap. He grunted and continued to spin the miniature vehicle's wheel while listening to the conversation he wasn't supposed to hear.

The second voice chimed in again, "Succeeding at modifying his behavior will get us the academy grant and allow us to use this method exclusively on the prison population."

"Mmhmm," Jormin clicked something, "This creature is the perfect test subject. Rav, Peth, it's all yours."

A hiss sounded as the door opened once more and two new beings stepped in. Like before, Groot spent a moment assembling their features while casually spinning the wheels on the miniature vehicle in his hands. He wasn't sure what species the yellow-skinned aliens belonged to because the Elders never mentioned them.

The green-eyed male, bald, thin and possessing a slightly crooked nose, answered to the name Rav. His black-eyed female partner, voluptuous with full lips and orange hair flowing down her back, called herself Peth. Their names and genders would be forever burned into Groot's memory later.

"Peth," Rav said louder than necessary, "Shall we play with the puzzle box?"

"Yes," Peth replied in the same manner, "Let's play with the puzzle box."

They sat on the ground facing each other and scooped up the white cube. Groot paused, watching them with his peripheral vision. Rav grabbed the red triangle and slipped it through the triangle shaped hole. Peth did the same with a purple crescent moon shape.

"I wonder where this goes," Rav picked up the blue square. He turned to Groot and held it out, "Do you know where this goes?"

A brief period of nothing passed. Groot realized both aliens awaited a response specifically from him. He pushed the blue square back at Rav because he did a fine job of shoving the pieces into the holes on his own. They continued bothering him about the puzzle until he uncurled from the floor, walked into the corner and took another drink.

"No interest in social activities," Rav muttered.

"Not even mimicry," added Peth, "Our work is definitely cut out for us."

" _I_  am  _Groot?_ " Groot asked the yellow aliens when he would be returned home.

"Is that all you can say?" Rav asked him. There was no warmth or interest in his tone. More confusingly, he kept curling half his mouth upward into a smirk.

A frown tensed Groot's brow.

"I  **am**  GROOT," he tried to explain how his utterances meant many things depending on how he said them, and all of his people spoke that way due to their stiff larynxes and neurology.

Like Jormin, these humanoids didn't understand his speech at all. He could tell by the momentary blank stares passing over their features. Neither appeared willing to recognize  _he was talking_  in his own way. They seemed so...so... _language impaired!_

Peth pushed herself upright, her head barely reaching Groot's chest. She reached for his hand, "Come on, sweetie. Let's change the scenery."

The smile on her face stayed far longer than seemed natural. Groot felt a sense of complete insincerity from her. Or did he judge too harshly too soon? These aliens were seemingly in a hurry to prove he couldn't understand them on their level. Maybe they needed time to realize he possessed as much competence as they did.

Groot grasped Peth's hand because he didn't want to be so judgmental. He silently trusted her, Rav and Jormin to eventually return him home.

"Tail us in case he gets aggressive," she hissed at Rav. Then the door whirred open and she led Groot into the hallway. Like the previous room, it was depressingly gray and featureless except for the rows of open doors casting white rectangles on the opposite walls.

Groot saw through the clear strip curtains hanging over the first door on his right. Someone wearing gloves and a cloth mask lifted a tiny, bloody mammal from a tank to clean it off with a towel. They then laid it inside a transparent incubation chamber. Somebody else wheeled the chamber into the corridor.

The masked person removed their gloves and pulled off the mask, revealing it to be Jormin. He stepped into the hall with a pleased demeanor that prompted a smile out of Groot.

"Subject 89P01 finally gave birth. Say hello to Subject 89P13. This one survived the in-utero genetic modifications, so I'm hoping he'll survive the cybernetic enhancements later. I don't want another failure."

"Outstanding," Rav gasped, "No neural tube defects?"

"None."

"Good luck with that one," Peth added.

"Good luck with  _that_  one," Jormin said back.

Rav chuckled, "This weed seems easy compared to what you've got going on."

Inside the chamber, the newborn mammal emitted chattering noises and twisted its tiny body. It was light gray with a darker gray snout, even darker gray around its tightly closed eyes and a hairless pink tail.

Jormin gestured and an orderly wheeled the incubation chamber away. Groot tried to watch where it went so he could find it again later, but Peth tugged his hand and he felt compelled to follow her. They entered another room. His eyes zeroed in on the metal table in the center and the vertical bars in the corner.

"Here we are. We need to keep track of you," Peth said half-heartedly. The sweetness in her tone wasn't genuine at all. She nudged him towards the large cage, "Go on now, in."

He ducked through the barred doorway, which didn't give enough room to stand up, and sat against the wall. That empty feeling of having no body returned with a vengeance, so he started rocking and groaning again. Movement told him where his body parts were. Making noise put something inside the nothing. Before long his groans became white noise. Every silence between seemed louder than his voice. Nothingness pressed into him like a physical presence he didn't want around.

Peth reached in and stroked his cheek, "You're a noisy one, aren't you?"

Groot's eyes briefly ghosted over her features, but other than that he didn't acknowledge her.

Rav grabbed Peth's backside. She giggled, slapping his hand away. He smacked her bottom, smiling.

"You think the weed has any potential?"

"Not sure," Peth placed her finger under Groot's chin and lifted his head up.

Groot chuckled and pushed her finger off his chin. She put it right back. Was this a game? Games were fun! He laughed again before pulling his chin down towards his chest, daring her to grab it again.

"He's responsive to tactile stimulation," Rav noted.

"Yup, just like a baby," Peth beamed at Groot, "You like that? Hm?" her voice took on a higher pitched tone, "Goochie-goochie! Goochie-goochie!"

The hilarious noises sent Groot chuckling again. An attempt to speak like him, perhaps?

" **I**  am  _Groot_ ," he playfully corrected her.

"You're into this." Peth giggled, "Goochie-goo!" She timed her weird gibberish to the movements of her fingertips dancing lightly along his shoulders. Her touch sent cold needles through his body. His laughter ceased in response to the discomfort and he pushed her hands off him. He focused on her hairline when she tried to align their gazes. Nope, not ready for that level of intimacy yet.

"You see that?" hissed Rav, "He's avoiding eye contact."

Peth tried again to line their eyes up. He focused on her nose instead.

"Mmhmm," she said, "he seems insistent about it, too."

Groot hardly knew this alien, so he didn't feel rude for turning her down. By contrast, her repeated attempts were invading his privacy. He didn't blame her though. She had no idea of her blunder, so he showed her by averting his gaze.

Looking into another's eyes was the most intimate act for Flora Colossi. Eyes were the windows to the Spirit-- the breath that animated the body. And just like aliens gave consent before engaging in the intimacy of sexual intercourse, Flora Colossi consented to showing others their Spirit by making or reciprocating eye contact when they chose to.

Peth brought both hands forward. He tensed uneasily at her fingers wrapping around his throat. She drew back and stroked his cheek again. He didn't mind that.

"He'll need a size nine collar."

"Gotcha."

Clanking metal approached and suddenly Peth held something silver in her grasp. Uncertain, Groot sank his head into his shoulders. His groans took on a deeper quality. He tried to turn away.

"Shh, it's okay," Peth rubbed his cheek some more, "Nobody's going to hurt you."

The biggest lie to come from her mouth.

"Hey!" Rav rapped on the bars, which made Groot sit up straight in alarm, "Go, Peth!"

Frigid metal snapped shut around his neck. The spikes inside extended with a loud snap. Agony shot through his nervous system. He slammed himself backwards against the wall and tried to punch the sensation off his throat. His painful yells filled the room. One hand grabbed Peth's arm, the other latched onto the cage bars. His vines grew out of control behind him.

"Damn!" Rav waved his arms, "Peth, get out of there!"

Peth broke free and backed out of the cage. Groot threw his weight forward in a desperate attempt to escape the agony. He smashed his head into the floor so hard he knocked himself senseless. Dazed, he curled up on his side and whimpered as the misery slowly faded.

"Tch, yeah, damage your brain more, you moron," Rav snorted. Then he put on a sickly sweet tone and said, "It's for your own good, weed. We're going to do everything we can to fix you up nice."

Fix? Nothing was broken!

The cage door clanged shut with a cold finality. From that moment on life in the Halfworld prison-laboratory became a cruel nightmare.

Footsteps approached the stone bridge and accelerated.

"Groot? What's going on? Hey, heh-heh! Are you  _drunk?_ "

Groot flinched and twisted to look upward. Quill bent over him, smells from inside the casino wafting off his jacket.

"The  _Milano's_  across the bridge. You're about halfway."

The humor on Quill's face melted into concern when Groot's expression twisted.

"This isn't the best place for a nap. C'mon," he did what anyone would do for an intoxicated friend and took hold of Groot's left arm.

Unfortunately, he didn't realize his touch mimicked acid on frayed nerve endings. Groot jerked away with a surprised cry. He clapped both hands against the back of his head and balled himself up into a fetal position. Coldness seeped into his bark. Grayness threatened to dissolve his remaining senses.

"Whoa, whoa, easy! Easy! Groot, it's okay! It's me, Quill. Star-Lord. What's up with you?"

Pronouncing  _I am Groot_  was beyond Groot's ability. He tried four times until he managed a monosyllabic groan. His vocal cords, lips and tongue weren't cooperating with each other. He slapped the stone ground in frustration at his inability to explain.

Fortunately, Quill was a shrewd man most of the time.

"I can tell you're in some kind of pain...I think..."

Groot nodded without looking up. His hand went to his throat, feeling for metal. No shock collar. He wasn't  _there_  in  _that place_.

"Okay, it's pain. Is it your throat? Does your throat hurt?"

Shrugging, Groot tensed his shoulders until the pang passed. He didn't know what hurt...just that  _something_  hurt.

"I-I don't know what you're tryin' to tell me. It's okay, we'll figure this out," Quill knelt down, but stopped short of touching Groot's arm, "Can you walk?"

Groot shot the man a wide-eyed look of terrified desperation. He didn't remember how to  _get up_. What if his heart forgot how to beat? What if his eyes forgot how to see?

Quill's tongue darted across his lips to wet them. He rubbed his hands together, no doubt perturbed by the situation and the frigid wind. "Okay, okay, um, I'm gonna go get Drax. He'll carry you to the  _Milano_ , okay? Hang on. I'll be right back."

His footfalls pounded across the bridge in a run. The vibrations jarred their way up Groot's back and faded. The agitated jabbing sensations settled once more into a dull, yet constant ache. Now Groot felt it creeping into his face and neck. He grabbed the side of his throat to feel for metal again.

Still no collar.

Good.

Safe.

Vehicles rattled by. Coolness radiated off the stone ground Groot sat on. He twisted to smell its roughness and catch traces of people who walked on it before him. Bad move-- misery blazed again through his right half, leaving him cringing.

Swift footsteps approached, one set creating stronger vibrations on the bridge than the other. Groot recognized Drax's brilliant red tattoos. Drax leaned down, respectfully turning his pale blue eyes slightly aside to prevent direct eye-contact.

"Quill said you are ill and unable to walk. Will you permit me to carry you back to the  _Milano?_ "

Groot nodded the affirmative. He braced himself for the sensory bombardment of another's touch. Drax's arms slipped behind his back and beneath his knees. His muscles bulged when he stood up. Pain shifted inside Groot like a disturbed pond. He snarled and bit the first thing in reach.

"Whoa!" Quill shouted, "Groot! Hey! He's trying to help--"

"Do not blame him for this. He is distressed," Drax avoided struggling even though Groot's wooden teeth were locked firmly on his ear.

Groot realized he hadn't bitten himself and forced his jaws to let go. He immediately placed his hand over the wounded ear. No blood.

"Damn," breathed Quill, "Let's start walking now. Nice and careful. Groot? Take it easy. You don't need to bite us."

Humiliated, Groot dodged Quill's worried gaze. He fixated on the red patterns marking Drax's right shoulder blade.

"You did not harm me," said Drax, his deep voice calm. If he was in pain, he did fantastically at concealing it.

Groot clung to Drax's shoulders to stay balanced in his arms. Drax was careful not to jostle him too much as he walked. Quill stayed close on Drax's right and out of reach of Groot's teeth.

They seemed to travel forever before biting cold wind gave way to metallic smells and warmth. Drax's weight tilted when he ascended the ramp into the  _Milano's_  airlock.

Rocket waited just inside, ears and tail twitching in concern. He started talking, no  _advocating_ , right away.

"Take him up to the flight deck and put him in one of those chairs. He'll lay down if he's sick. Let his behavior talk. Easy now. Hey, Groot? You're not in public anymore. We're the only people who can see you. Gamora? Fill that jug with water. Quill? Get my backpack. Drax? Gonna need you to help me restrain him when he starts attacking himself."

"How do you know he will do this?" asked Drax, "Teach me so I may recognize it."

"Check his eyes. Blank stare. See it? Good. Now c'mon, you're wasting time."

Drax's muscles tensed, however having Groot in his arms meant any angry retort he had died before he spoke it. He kept his reply to a curt, "Understood."

"I'll get the water," Gamora added.

"Backpack," Quill said.

Groot hardly registered the next change of scenery. The moment he was placed in the chair, he got off it to lay on the floor. Pain traced the shape and size of his limbs. His fingers kept curling. Panic rose swiftly into his throat. He didn't care what anybody thought of him. Any modesty he had about his actions flew out the hangar doors. There was only misery and he would do anything to bear it.

"Here is the water," Gamora's voice came from the left. Near her, Quill set Rocket's backpack down by his feet.

A resonant moan shot past Groot's clenched teeth.

"I know something hurts," Rocket got down on the floor with him, "I need to check you over to find it. Is that okay with you?"

Groot took a moment to process the words, understand them and respond with a nod. Having the choice meant so much to him because he could recall when he didn't get one.

"I think it's his throat," Quill said. Bless him, he was trying so hard to be helpful, "I saw him grab his neck."

"Let's look. Groot, can you open your mouth?" Rocket opened his own mouth to show what he wanted. Groot mirrored him and closed his eyes while Rocket examined his teeth and throat.

"Nothin' looks infected or broken. His breath doesn't stink either. Here, Groot, sip this and see if anything hurts worse."

The cylindrical metal jug of water felt nice in Groot's hands. He sat up halfway to take a sip. Nothing hurt more or less. The misery wasn't related to his face, neck or head at all.

Another pang. He felt his own throat. Then he reached out to tap on Rocket's neck too.

"It's not his thr--" Rocket's ears twitched. Rage flashed through his eyes and he tilted his head to let Groot see his bare neck, "No shock collars, Groot. You're not in the lab." To the others, he explained, "He's looking for the shock collars we wore on Halfworld. The pain's triggering him."

The words Groot couldn't say lay bare in Rocket's voice. The atmosphere around him changed while Rocket resumed the search for where his body hurt. Groot tolerated the sniffing nose and clawed fingers gently probing his back, shoulders, chest and arms. The snuffling sounds slowed at his wrists. Rocket squeezed Groot's left wrist between his hands. Nothing. But the right wrist... ** _BLAM!_**

Silent screams wrenched Groot's mouth open as white hot chaos exploded through his body. The pain reached a brilliant crescendo and doubled back to localize at its source. Grayness followed close behind. Weak grayness, but still enough to wreck the careful balance he'd attained. He shrank inside himself like star collapsing into supernova.

"Found it. Infected right wrist. He's in a lot of pain," said Rocket. The hands squeezing Groot's wrist loosened and rubbed his elbow, "Sorry, I know that fuckin' hurts. I had to help you find it."

Groot's eyes went more blank. He stopped blinking. Nothing he looked at made any sense to him. A groan rattled in his throat. He sat up halfway and thrashed himself downward against the ground as hard as he could, trying to shatter the numb agony off his nerves.

"Here we go. He's going nuclear," Rocket kept talking, "You're okay, Groot. Your water won't get taken away for this. Go ahead. We'll handle it."

Impulses raged through Groot's brain. He jerked his arm up and punched himself square in the face. Quill seized his elbow before he landed the second blow, unintentionally leaving his fist loose to jab his own hip instead. Gamora captured his wrist. The sick wrist, no less. Groot struggled harder as the aching and numbness fought for dominance. He bore his teeth and lunged at the obstacle between him and the thing that hurt. Gamora leaned away, losing her grip on his arm. Drax immediately grabbed his right hand, saving it from getting mangled.

"I know this is not your fault," he said, placing a hand on Groot's chest to try and hold him down.

But Groot's body wanted to rebel against its pain. Like a person drowning, he kicked his legs and nearly threw everyone off him at once. Rocket narrowly avoided getting punted across the flight deck.

A trillion feelings of apology flashed through Groot's mind while he writhed between the people trying to protect him from himself.

"Here," Quill pushed the chew tube towards Groot's face, "Bite this, not yourself."

Groot clamped the chew tube in his jaws as another strong pang hit. He keened and slammed his head backwards against the metal floor until he saw stars. The jarring impact reverberated through his nerve endings. Creating his own pain on purpose overrode the distress caused by sickness. Right then he was desperate to feel something,  _anything_ , that wasn't uncontrolled agony. Making himself hurt increased his desperation and fear, so he doubled his efforts. A vicious cycle he couldn't break once it established itself.

More pangs. More panic. More head slamming.

Crack. Crack! CRACK!

"Shit! He's splittin' his head open. Flip him on his stomach! Sit on his legs! Control his arms!  _Now!_ " Rocket fired the orders like a drill sergeant, "Hang on, Groot!"

Gamora and Drax worked together to turn him facedown. Quill sat on his legs, stopping them from kicking. Drax and Gamora pressed their forearms across his upper back. Rocket climbed between them to kneel on Groot's back. He pinned his head to the floor with one hand and began patting triangular patterns into the back of his neck with the other.

"Nice job, Groot, you cracked your head right down the middle. Drax, Gamora, c'mon, flex his elbows harder."

Gamora balked, "That will break his arms."

"Tch, the worst you'll do is break the outer bark. That ain't nothing compared to what he'll do to himself if he gets loose. I told you the first time,  _he can't control this_."

Drax nodded and pushed first. Gamora mirrored him, reluctant. Groot gasped in relief. The pressure gave him awareness of his body inside the chaos. He stopped squirming almost immediately and focused intently on Rocket's hand patting his neck.

"You're doing great, Groot. Hang in there, we're getting you through this," murmured Rocket.

"Is it working?" asked Quill.

"Yeah," Rocket kept his voice low, "Be quiet for a minute. Let him settle."

This was beyond humiliating. Groot growled in frustration. His heart pounded wildly. Everything still sounded crackly and unreal. Having everyone shut up let his jangled senses reconstitute into understandable information. The terror died down once the sensory distortions abated.

Still in pain, but momentarily stable, he spat out the chew tube and grunted to signal it was safe to be released. Quill clambered off his legs. Drax immediately helped him sit up. Gamora offered him the water. He drank generously, spilling some on his chest. Shame wouldn't let him look towards anyone.

Rocket took something out of his pants pocket. A small knife with a scalpel's sharpness. "You know what's coming next. I need to see how deep in it is."

Groot nodded without hesitation. This kind of pain could be prepared for.

Everyone watched with bizarre fascination as Rocket stabbed the blade into Groot's right wrist and sawed into the bark. This didn't hurt much. Rocket kept cutting, each pass of the knife carefully exposing a new layer. Periderm, cork cambium and living phloem.

"Mmhmm, here it is," Rocket said when he reached the vascular cambium, "It's a tiny little abscess. Groot, I need to drain this before it starts to kill your hand. Quill, get me a bowl. Preferably something you're okay with never using again."

"Big or little?" asked Quill.

"Big," Rocket answered curtly. The object he required was quickly retrieved and placed on the floor. A white plastic bowl with scratches in the bottom.

Groot's eyes narrowed at the angry pea-sized lump in his pale cambium tissue. That stupid little thing turned his body into a battleground. He hated it.

Rocket shifted Groot's forearm across his lap. A silent apology passed through his eyes. Groot met them, briefly, and nodded. This could cause another behavioral meltdown...but better he face the pain now,  _before_  the abscess got any bigger.

"Get ready to grab him," Rocket glanced up at Quill, Drax and Gamora, "Neither of us know how he'll respond to this."

Groot closed his fist. Trepidation trickled through his chest. His eyes stayed glued to the silver blade Rocket held in his practiced, steady hand.

"Ready, Groot?" Rocket lowered the knife, "Three, two...one."

The first poke was an explosion of sharp, painful pressure. Abscesses thickened the normally thin cambium tissue. This bastard of an abscess took work to cut open. Every slide of the knife burned hotter than the one before. Groot grabbed his right bicep with his left hand and curled up without moving the arm Rocket worked on. He kept his eyes pinned on the procedure.

Aliens seemed to prefer looking away from things like this. Being ignorant helped them mentally separate themselves from what happened to their bodies. Not so for Groot. Knowing every move helped him anticipate each sensation without panicking. Even though misery painted his entire nervous system an angry white-hot, he didn't have the same urge to bite himself. That would return later. His body didn't like having abscesses opened despite it being necessary for his health, and it made its dislike known throughout the recovery process.

The blade's point breached the abscess with a soft popping noise. Fetid grey-green slime poured out. Rocket quickly flipped Groot's wrist over the bowl to let the worst of the infection drain.

Groot realized he'd been gnashing his chew tube the whole time. He kept chewing. It helped.

Quill pulled the collar of his leather jacket across his nose. Gamora pressed a hand to her mouth. Drax retched and turned his head away. Rocket barely suppressed a gag. The deathly stench quickly filled the entire flight deck until Quill turned on an air-recycling vent to suck the odor out.

"Damn, that stinks," Rocket coughed, "This is why you don't let him sit and bite himself when he flips out. He'll heal over and seal in something nasty. His body's great at taking care of the shit he breathes or swallows, but it's crap at protecting his limbs. Weak sap flow and all. He gets abscesses, they burst and the infection runs wild before his body realizes there's a problem."

Biting himself unhindered. That was exactly what happened one week ago while camping on a relatively unexplored planet.

Clouds swirling on the greenish-gray horizon stretched downward. Dirt spun about the point of contact with the ground. A tremendous roar filled the air. Groot recognized this phenomenon. They happened every summer on his homeworld and saplings were the only ones in danger from them. He watched the narrow cone rapidly develop into a broad wedge.

"Holy shit!" Quill cried.

"There's a fucking tornado coming at our campsite. A  _fucking tornado!_ " Rocket hurled a spoon at Quill, "You jackass!"

Quill rubbed his eyebrow. "I didn't--"

"This is not the proper time to argue!" Gamora shouted at them.

"There's a gorge just south of us. Let's get in it!"

Drax hollered over the noise, "What good will that do?"

"I dunno! You're supposed to go underground during a tornado!" Quill replied.

"Less talking, more running," Rocket barked. "Groot? Groot! Get--"

Gamora grabbed Rocket and they ran, not realizing Groot didn't follow.

The tornado sounded like the  _Milano's_  engines sans the high pitched overtones. Its power vibrated the ground and sent the rain snarling across anything solid enough to stand up against it.

Groot let his legs grow over six feet into the soil and spread his roots out underground. He assumed a duck-and-cover posture. Roots sprouted off his shoulders to reinforce his grip on the dirt. Pebbles and chunks of mud started slamming into him. He saw the sleeping bags go flying. Pieces of the tent skidded sideways until they crashed into a boulder. Pots and pans clanged together.

The rain curtain parted and Groot saw the gray edge of the funnel whirling towards him. Gusts ceased and there was just a wall of intensifying wind. Rocks, mud and water blasted his left side harder than before. His ears popped painfully and fast-moving air currents tried to steal every exhale. Like a living entity, the tornado challenged him to stand his ground. He didn't move.

Groot  _laughed_  as the vortex engulfed him. Everything went dark and deafening. Fierce suction pulled at his body. For every tug he felt, he dug his roots deeper. Pieces of his bark broke off into the unknown. He couldn't see anything except swirling water droplets. The storm tasted of water, mud and dankness, yet smelled like sawdust. Spinning coldness surrounded him. A break in its intensity told him the moment he waited for had arrived. He glanced up and smiled at the tiny light gray spot overhead. Looking into the eye of a tornado was a badge of honor for Flora Colossi. The triumph allowed him a quick fist-pump before he ducked again, both arms covering his head. Overpowering wind and noise assaulted his right side now, yet he wasn't afraid. He was  _built_  to survive this.

Gradually, the darkness moved on, the roar got quieter and the wind's pull weakened. In the tornado's wake, a rainstorm far more torrential than before. Groot waited until he no longer felt suction on his back. Excitement left him squirming. Finally, he retracted the roots he put down and staggered to his feet. He spun around in circles, hollering gleefully and flapping his hands at the towering tornado as it sped away. The whirling funnel passed just north of the gorge Quill and the others fled to.

Giant ice chunks began falling. Hail wasn't something Groot minded, except he never saw it get this big! Thunder sealed the deal, and he ran for his life. All Flora Colossi were afraid of lightning. Thunder meant lightning, so Groot bolted for the  _Milano_.

Large hail pounded the vessel's hull. The agony of ice striking metal and reinforced glass was more than Groot's ears could bear. With nobody to stop him, he bit his right wrist to shreds. His ordeal ended once the hailstorm passed. By the time Rocket, Drax, Gamora and Quill appeared looking like a collectively bedraggled mess, Groot's wounds were healed and he was laughing again.

"We've gotta find-- there he is. Groot!" Rocket's ears flicked back. He scrambled towards Groot and stopped just short of hugging his leg, glaring, "You...you asshole!"

Groot recognized the unspoken message embedded in the angry tone. 'You scared the crap out of me and I'm so glad you're okay, but don't ever do that to me again!'

" **I**   _am_  Groot," he apologized.

"Where does the yellow brick road you speak of lead to?" Drax asked as he boarded the ship.

"The Emerald City," said Quill, who had to drag everything he could salvage by himself. Everybody else was too annoyed to help, so Groot took pity and assisted him.

"Hmph," Gamora grabbed the broom propped next to the airlock and lightly whacked Quill upside the head, "Move."

Groot watched a wicked smile appear on Quill's face.

"What, are you gonna fly away on it?"

"No, I'm going to push the mud you tracked in back outside. Or would you prefer I fly this someplace Kevin Bacon can't reach?"

"Wow, I was making a joke about you being gr--"

"Be  _QUIET,_  Peter!"

Drax winced and moved away from Gamora even though her shout wasn't directed at him. Rocket busied himself with scraping mud off his clothes.

"Worst. Campout. Ever," he said, which sent Groot guffawing again. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Groot."

"C'mon, guys! I didn't know the weather was gonna do that!" Quill protested.

Everyone except Groot glared at him.

All seemed well until the infection announced its presence.

Rocket took a black tube out of the same pocket he got the knife. A long nozzle appeared on the end when he twisted it. He pushed the nozzle into Groot's open wound and filled it completely with pink antibiotic ointment. The ointment fizzed to white, stung and dried quickly into something like artificial skin. A chemical bandage he mixed just for Groot to prevent further contamination while an infection healed.

" _I_  am Groot."

"Yeah, good idea. I've got some in my backpack."

Rocket unraveled a narrow length of rope, cut it in half and wrapped both halves around Groot's wrists.

Rope. Groot avoided chewing it because of how disgusting it felt on his teeth, so it provided the perfect deterrent from wrist biting. Rocket only used rope during active infections like this.

"Would you prefer to sit in a chair?" Gamora asked once the rope got safely tied off.

Groot shook his head no. He reached for the water jug. She helped him drink. Then he laid down again while Rocket got rid of the contaminated bowl and washed his hands. Once more the pain was enclosing his body. Different this time-- sharper, harder, like hooks wrenching all of his nerves inward. The noise of it began to drown out his ability to process the world around him.

His hand drifted to his throat. No metal. But he  _remembered_. All eight spikes of the collar penetrated deep into the cambium tissues of his neck. Right where he had many nerve bundles. It delivered full-body agony at the push of a button.

Behavior therapists were supposed to activate it when he behaved in a manner they deemed inappropriate, which was basically  _everything_ natural he did to regulate his nerves. It took him a long, long time to recognize the collar caused his pain and even longer to realize why the shocks happened at all.

Nobody explained why the behaviors he relied on all his life to understand the world around him were suddenly wrong.

"Sit," Rav pushed Groot to sit in the too-small chair by the table in the cage room. "Good. Good sitting."

The cage room seemed so cold and cheerless in its grayness. Were all the rooms gray?

Groot eyed the metal bars of the cage meant for him. The cage itself was a rectangle just long enough to lie down in lengthwise if he wanted to. At the "foot end" of his cage, he saw a smaller empty one with two platforms inside to give it three levels. The platforms were joined by ramps and the door opened the entire front side. Both cages shared a single set of bars like a large bubble connected to a smaller one by a filmy wall.

Rav scooted his chair onto the same side of the table Groot sat and seated himself so they were facing each other. He placed the water jug near his left elbow. Its reflection on the tabletop gave it the appearance of a continuous silver column. Groot's eyes were naturally drawn to the interesting pattern.

"Notice the marked interest in objects instead of us?" Rav said to Peth.

"Mmhmm."

" _I_  am Groot?" Groot questioned why that mattered. Did  _anyone_  here understand him?

"Right...okay, weed, look this way."

Groot glanced at Rav's chin and reached for the water jug.

"No," Rav blocked him, "Look at me."

Frowning, Groot repeated the same glance as before. He  _was_  looking at him!

" _No_ ," Rav snapped, " _Look_  at me."

"I  ** _am_**  Groot!"

Thunderous rustling noises marked Rav leaning forward. He grabbed Groot by the chin and brought their eyes level with each other.

"Look. At. Me."

Groot gasped, terrified by the sudden invasion of his space for something so intimate. He squeezed his eyes shut and twisted his chin out of the alien's grasp. All he wanted was to sip some water!

"Peth."

"Right."

Peth's shoes clacked closer. She placed her fingers on Groot's eyelids and forced them open. Rav's eyes were  _right there_ , their dark pupils boring into him like black holes. Groot felt the pressure of Rav's gaze like a physical burning sensation.

"Good! Good looking! Good job!" Rav patted Groot's shoulder.

"Very good!" Peth echoed her partner. She let go of Groot's eyelids.

Shaken, Groot almost didn't notice the water jug getting presented to him. Rav didn't let him hold it, rather, he kept his hand on the handle while Groot took a drink.

"Okay," he took the water away before Groot quenched his thirst, "Look at me."

Groot groaned and rocked violently back and forth. Dread opened a void somewhere in the region of his pounding heart. Moving his body kept it from growing.

"Look at me," Rav growled.

Angry now, Groot shook his head no. To further make his point, he slapped his hands down on both thighs.

"Ah-ah," Peth reached around him to pin his hands in his lap, "Quiet hands. Sit still."

A faint whine rose in Groot's throat when she halted his rocking motion, too. The emptiness his movements controlled threatened to overrun his body. Within seconds he no longer knew where his bark ended and Peth's hands began.

"Good," she patted his shoulders in a demeaning manner, as if he were an animal being trained, "Good sitting."

"Look at me," Rav spoke right after.

Again, Groot refused.

Rav grabbed him by the chin. He brought their faces close together and stared into his eyes. Groot did not consent to this. How dare this alien force the matter!

"I said  _look_  at m--"

The reaction was instantaneous. Groot shrugged Peth's hands off and shoved Rav out of his personal space. The chair clanged when he jumped onto his feet. Nettles sprouted off his shoulders. His expression twisted.

"I.  _AM_.  ** _GROOT!_** " he bellowed at them. One vine grabbed Rav around the waist and lifted him off the ground, the other seized Peth's legs and whipped them out from under her.

Rav took an oval-shaped silver remote from his pocket and pressed a triangular red button. Everything turned painfully white. Groot dropped both aliens, cried out in terror and flailed his arms. A dozen vines grew off his shoulders, yet they struck nothing. Unable to find this invisible foe, threw himself against the wall in attempt to shatter the misery off himself.

Then Rav pinned him to the wall with his body, grasped his chin and forced their eyes to meet again.

"Look at me, stupid! That's all you're supposed to do. LOOK at me!"

Groot obeyed because he wanted the pain to stop. It ceased as soon as eye contact happened.

"Good! Good looking!" Rav's angry expression suddenly changed to delight, "Good looking!"

He stepped back out of Groot's personal space, retrieved the water pitcher and let him have a small sip.

"Peth, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Peth let out her breath, "Good looking!" she added with saccharine falsity.

Their rapid changes in demeanor left Groot hopelessly confused. They punished him to induce unnatural behaviors, then praised these unnatural behaviors. Why? What was so wrong with him?

The treatment continued for hours. Neither cared why he resisted. He had to follow their exact orders within an unspecified period of time or he got punished. Self-soothing wasn't allowed, so he struggled with paying attention and processing their words. He swore they wanted him to fail as an excuse to dole out pain.

Groot felt hollow inside by the time the technicians coaxed him back into his cage. He must have looked into their eyes a thousand times and wondered how his Spirit avoided fleeing his body after so many invasions. Neither cared about how deeply they violated him.

"This weed's barely intelligent at all," Rav remarked while locking the barred door, "I'm surprised we got him following commands."

Peth leaned against him, her hand aimlessly rubbing his back. She smiled, "I like a challenge. If we can get a barely-sentient plant to look indistinguishable from society, then getting the slightly smarter cretins in this prison to change their behavior shouldn't be all that difficult."

"I really wish Jormin let us take Subject 89P13," sighed Rav, "Think of how many brains we'll learn to fix by studying that thing."

"Tch, I don't think it'll survive infancy. Not with neurogenesis happening at such an accelerated rate."

Groot noticed their focus wasn't on him anymore. He rocked back and forth to soothe himself. Rav shouted at him and the white-hot jolt happened again. Blinded and angered by pain, he lashed out with his vines. The cage bars resisted bending and breaking. Rav and Peth moved across the room where he couldn't reach.

"So much aggression," Peth noted aloud.

Rav scoffed, "Doesn't know what's good for him, does he?"

Groot endured six more zaps before he curled up in the cage's corner, too afraid to move. This torture came from nowhere, and he didn't understand why. Fighting off a foe he could see was one thing-- battling an enemy so random and invisible...he had no defense!

"...anyway," Rav spun the remote in his hand, "dinner?"

"Of course."

They left in silence.

Time passed. The lights dimmed. Only then did Groot feel safe enough to uncurl and give a few test rocks. No zaps or pain. He rocked himself to sleep.

Rav and Peth came back the next morning. They brought along a beautiful, sparkly object that Groot found mesmerizing. He flapped his hands in delight and focused on it when Peth guided him to sit at the table. She immediately pinned his hands in his lap.

"Sit still. Quiet hands," her voice spoke sweetly. "Good! Good sitting."

Perturbed, but not disheartened, Groot reached for the new thing. They let him take it and study it. Nothing happened until he started to squeeze, tap, sniff and nibble it.

The object felt smooth despite having the shape of a multifaceted oval. Tapping it revealed soft pinging sounds, proving its solidity. It lacked a scent or taste. He smiled delightedly at how the light played off its edges. A crystal! A big, beautiful crystal! He bit its edge since his teeth were excellent tools for determining the texture of a substance. His wooden teeth practically bounced off the hard crystal while gliding smoothly against its surface.

Suddenly, Rav snatched the crystal and loudly plunked it atop the table again.

"No! This isn't food! You're supposed to look at it."

"I am Groot!" Groot snapped that he had been looking at it until Rav grabbed it away. His brow furrowed. He was allowed to pick the crystal up again. Then he brought it close to his eyes, marveling at the kaleidoscopic way everything broke into multiple images surrounded by rainbow sparkles. Shards of multicolored light danced on the glittering edges and--

"No," Rav took the crystal from him a second time.

"I  _am_  Groot?" Groot asked what he did wrong despite knowing these people didn't understand his speech at all.

"Quiet voice," Peth said.

Groot ducked his head and sighed.

"Now, quiet sitting," she grasped his shoulders. Until then, he didn't notice himself rocking. She came around front with that cloying smile he'd begun to hate. "Hey, sweetie, look at me."

Not this again. Groot chewed his bottom lip.

"Look at me."

He avoided her eyes.

Rav took out the remote. Yesterday's procedure repeated itself. Pain on top of pain, and for what reason?

Groot looked them in the eyes when he didn't want to and endured the repeated personal violations. Disobedience meant he suffered immeasurable pain and unquenched thirst. They wanted blind compliance.

With no foreseeable escape, he started making eye contact on command and hated himself for giving his Spirit away so easily.

Movement startled Groot from his memories. Someone retrieved a white blanket and pillow from the bunk area. They were gently covering him up. His eyes focused on the edge of Gamora's face. He saw her smile a little sadly, almost forced. Instinctively, he reached for her hand. She let him take it.

"...so it's like the fight over Xandar happenin' inside his head. Making his body work means yelling over the noise," Rocket was whispering, "It's gonna take him longer to process things, so give him time to react. Offer him the water any time you see him looking at the jug.  _Ask him_ if he's done or wait for him to push it aside before you take it away.

"Don't do any cutesy cheek petting and don't grab his chin. Groot remembers things by sensory associations and those were all things they did to him in that shithouse. He's triggered enough by the sensations of being sick. Don't make it worse."

"I don't get it," Quill said, "It's a little abscess. You drained it. That was weird, too! He went nuts when you found it and hardly flinched when you drained it."

Drax's voice rumbled, "In my experience, pain from an unknown source is harder to withstand than a pain you know is coming. Secondly, no one likes to deal with foolishness when they feel ill."

"But do all his smarts go away, too?" asked Quill, "I-I'm not trying to be an asshole or anything. I'm--"

Rocket growled faintly, a register so low only Groot heard it.

"What the...seriously?  _Seriously?_ "

"Hey! I'm trying to figure this out! I'm out of my league here. How'm I supposed to know if I don't ask?"

"Do  _you_  stop understanding what people say when you're sick? Come on! All his energy's aimed at handling the pain. That's why he's acting like this. He can't help it."

Throughout all of it, Gamora remained a silent presence near Groot's head. He nearly forgot she was there until she placed his hand gently on the floor and smoothed the blanket.

Quill started to say more. Groot didn't process the words. Memories rose again instead.

The restraints were the worst. Horrible metal things with bars and chains. They weren't the awful part. No, Groot hated being rendered completely immobile. Regulating his nervous system required movement. Inability to do so was something akin to immolation. His body didn't know any other means to dispel its excess energy, so it crackled beneath his bark.

Crying out helped. Technicians didn't like that. They gagged him. The gag consisted of a metal piece that extended inside his mouth and thick buckling straps to keep it in place. He learned how to scream around it. The next time he got gagged, he felt cloth over the metal slab. A cloth coated in something like mud, but far more foul.

Groot had no gag reflex to speak of; he coughed if something irritated his throat. He couldn't make a sound without coughing. This time, he remained silent and unable to move. His entire body hurt. What did he do to deserve this?

"That shut him up!" crowed the Guna technician, "Shoulda made him eat shit from the start."

Jormin, sneered at his data pad, "Is that really necessary?"

"Rav says aversive punishments are the only thing that stops problem behaviors."

Groot slammed his head against the pillow to escape the memory. Too late, the visceral rage nearly edged out the pain filling his physicality to its tiniest nerve endings. Anger filled a container already overflowing. He grunted, twisting the loose ends of the chew tube around each other and slapping the floor.

"How can we assist you?" Drax asked.

A moan worked its way past Groot's lips. He squirmed beneath the blanket. Several hands paused just shy of touching him. He resettled on his left side, gnawing at his red chew tube. Its rubbery presence made the most sense. The hovering hands retreated. He was safe.

"Look, there's no point in all of us crowdin' him," Rocket muffled a yawn, "Groot ain't gonna sleep when he's laying down and it ain't a good idea to leave him totally alone. It's gonna take about forty-eight hours for the infection to clear and he's gonna hate everything the whole time."

Everyone was going to witness him at his worst. Groot wanted to shrink away into nothing. Drax, Quill and Gamora had seen him dissolve into wrist-biting meltdowns, but they had no idea how a simple illness affected his behavior.

They were about to see something only seen by Rocket and the people on Halfworld. They would see side of him Halfworld called wrong and tried to abuse away.

Somehow, Groot got himself onto his feet. The blanket fell off with a soft plop. He silently shook off Gamora's attempt at helping him and moved to sit in the co-pilot's seat again. This gave him a view of outside. The blackness of the hangar outlined colorful city lights, though they looked like blurry dots to his unfocused eyes. His hand automatically went to his throat. No metal. He wasn't  _there_  again.

Rocket set the water jug in Groot's line of sight. "Quill, you should sleep first. You've gotta fly the ship in a couple hours."

"You sure you won't need help out here?" Quill failed to suppress the yawn at the end of his question.

"Tch, you'll fall asleep on the job. Just go to bed, Quill."

Gamora moved the blanket and pillow closer to Rocket. "Don't hesitate to wake us if you need assistance."

Drax said nothing. His reflection disappeared down the stairwell in the back of the flight deck. Quill and Gamora followed. Groot strained his ears until he couldn't hear footsteps or whispers.

Pain shrank a little, like the clouds parting during a storm. He opened and closed his mouth. It obeyed his commands. He took the opportunity to communicate.

" _I_  am...  **Groot.** "

Rocket's ears perked as he perched on the control dash. "Nah, you're not ruining anything. What makes you think that?"

Groot shrugged and stared at his fists in his lap. Black ropes enclosed his forearms from his wrists to just below his elbows. Bite deterrents though they were, he thought they branded him as someone who couldn't control himself. Halfworld's scars loved to crop up in his thinking processes when he wanted them the least.

He exhaled heavily. His tired brain wouldn't stay focused on explanations. He wanted something simpler without exchanging words.

" _I_... _am_  Groot."

Swish went Rocket's ringed tail. An unconscious motion expressing uncertainty.

"You want the purr?"

Groot knew Rocket didn't like doing this with other people around. He preferred to distance himself from his 'animal' heritage. Growls and whinnies only happened when he experienced nightmares. The chattering noises he made as a baby were a thing of the past. But purring...that was something he never forgot how to do. He only,  _only_  ever did it for Groot.

Knowing this asked a lot made Groot wish he hadn't requested it. Making Rocket uncomfortable sent regret pulsing through his fingertips. He averted his eyes, thought about it and refocused on his best friend's twitching left ear.

"Groot, it ain't a problem. You feel like shit right now and I'll do anything to make it better. You want the purr? You'll get the purr."

Rocket slid off the control panel to climb onto Groot's lap.

Metal rattled as the smaller cage's door slid shut. Alarmed, Groot stopped waving his hands near his eyes and laid back in anticipation of a shock. He was surprised when he didn't get one.

"Subject 89P13, your cell mate is a big, dumb plant. Don't eat it," said the Guna technician. He walked out without acknowledging Groot and the door whined closed behind him.

Groot turned over onto his stomach to peer through the bars. Something new was in the neighboring cage. A ball of fluff with a striped tail, pointy ears, whiskers, a wiggling black nose and white stripes above two beady dark brown eyes.

Someday, Groot would admire this animal's ability to jump like a rocket ship blasting off.

"I am Groot?" Groot lifted his brow ridges.

The raccoon destined to be named Rocket emitted a trilling chatter. Groot remembered that noise from somewhere before...and wait, 89P13? This was the tiny furry animal he saw placed inside an incubator!

" _I_  am Groot," he murmured, and the raccoon's teeny ears flicked.

The bars had just enough room to let Groot slip a hand between them up to the wrist. His furry companion darted away at first, alarmed.

Groot sprouted a single leaf off his thumb. He waited patiently while the furry little creature sniffed hesitantly at the air. A few moments later, the raccoon climbed onto his palm to eat the leaf. He was so tiny he fit perfectly there. Groot pushed his other hand amid the bars and stroked the baby animal's back. Startled, the raccoon nearly leapt out of his skin.

"I am  _Groot_ ," he told him, promising the tiny animal he would never cause him harm.

Suddenly, the baby raccoon scooted forward. Small front paws-- practically tiny hands-- reached out to touch his face. This animal probably used more than one sense to understand the environment. Delighted at their similarity, Groot let the forepaws scrape and pat his face.

The raccoon satisfied his curiosity enough to turn away. He curled up on Groot's upturned palm and raised his head.

Their eyes met.

Groot trusted the baby raccoon with his Spirit. In return, he saw the creature's Spirit shine back as if smiling. Then the raccoon's eyelids fell half shut. He emitted a wondrous sound of pure contentment.

They were always, really and forever friends from that moment on.

Rocket's purr sounded like low-volume growls at every exhale. To do it, he needed to be relaxed. Relaxing meant vulnerability. Groot felt honored at being the only witness to this comforting sound. Even when the unpleasant sensations in his wrist began climbing through his nervous system like vines, he focused intently on the rattling noise.

Groot nuzzled his cheek against the top of Rocket's head, feeling his wiry fur and inhaling his familiar scent of leather mixed with salt and metal. He did it over and over-- sniff, nuzzle, sniff, nuzzle.

Rocket chuckled softly without hindering the affectionate gesture. His purr filled Groot's ears, creating auditory input to go alongside the tactile and olfactory. Pressure feedback from his weight cut through the confusing sensations vying for his undivided attention.

Within moments Groot recognized the boundaries of his own body again. He rumbled with the lowest register of his voice to express his contentment. Having permission to  _be_  when his nervous system had trouble relaying information correctly was freedom. He thanked Rocket by embracing him to keep his heartbeat close. Rocket automatically scooted his head upward under Groot's chin and leaned heavily against his chest.

"Just for you, you big idiot," said Rocket, his voice rattling because of his purring.

Groot smiled and closed his eyes.

.o

Agony wrenched him from slumber's depths. Hot, sharp, explosive lightning bolts breached past  _something_. No weight in his lap and no chew tube in his mouth, so no sense of his body. The stars outside the front window confused him. He swore he only just closed his eyes. What happened to the city lights? Was he being taken back to Halfworld?

Distressed and disoriented, he attacked the source of his terror. Rope fibers grated on his teeth. He wailed and kept biting until he located bark. His own hand.

"Uh-oh!" Quill's fingers stayed firmly wrapped around the ship's controls, "Guys, Groot's flipping!"

Emotional control failed next. Sap tears blurred Groot's eyes when he saw his chew tube on the floor. It was a simple thing to reach down and pick it up, yet the cacophony of pain drowned the signal he sent to his arm. His left leg moved instead. Useless!

But his right hand still listened. He delivered an impressive uppercut to his own chin. The blow slammed his teeth together with a hollow crack. He swallowed the splinters that used to be a molar. It would grow back, but the new pain gave him another reason to keep punching his jaw. The motion became like a stuck data track repeating the same word over and over-- he couldn't stop!

Green fingers seized his right hand mid-swing. He fought them. They held firm. He turned on his left arm.

"No," Drax grabbed the wrist Groot tried to assault.

"Shh, you aren't in danger," Gamora spoke softly to him, "Shhh..."

Comforting words that didn't help. Groot's fear was a physical response, not an emotional one. He thrashed against the chair in frustration.

"Augh, Groot, c'mon man," Quill pleaded with him, "You missed takeoff by five minutes. Whoa! Wait, don't-- ack!" He hurriedly swiped a command that made all the lights on Groot's co-pilot chair shut off. Just in time for Groot's elbow to bump the throttle.

"Be careful," Drax kept his voice calm, "His right wrist may be tender."

The look Gamora shot back at him could melt asteroids. Their tension spread to Groot, who increased his thrashing motions. Vines sprouted involuntarily off his shoulders. His right wrist had his whole body throbbing now.

"Where's his chew tube?" Rocket's voice boomed across the flight deck. He hurried forward, "Damn it, you let him drop it! I can't take a piss without you jacking things up, can I?"

"Hey!" Quill gestured at the ship's controls, "I'm flying here!"

"He just awoke," Drax pointed out.

"And started doing this," added Gamora, her voice strained as she once again pulled Groot's wrist away from his mouth.

"Ugh, useless pricks!" Rocket scooped the chew tube off the floor. He climbed into Groot's lap-- a risky move-- and pressed the rubbery object against his clenched teeth, "Here's your-- ow!"

Groot bit Rocket's hand along with the tube. He knew he did it, he was incredibly sorry, but he had no way to express his remorse. Pain and terror lashed his nerves and all he could do was battle against himself. He  _hated_  his right arm for causing such misery.

Rocket jumped to the floor and tried to be subtle about licking the blood off his knuckles. Groot hurt his best friend in the universe. Once more he broke the promise he made on Halfworld. Being unable to apologize sent his rage through the  _Milano's_  roof. He wrenched his arms free and smashed both fists into the sides of his head. The stars outside the window doubled.

"Shit! Stop, Groot! Rocket, you okay?" asked Quill.

"I'm fine, worry about him!"

Drax caught and twisted Groot's left arm behind the chair. Gamora did the same with his right. Groot cried out and kicked the control panel. The pain kept getting worse. He wanted to tell Rocket he was sorry for biting him and his damn body wasn't cooperating!

Quill set the ship's autopilot and sprang up to grab Groot's legs. He held one under each arm. His efforts nearly earned him a kick to the chin.

"Let's get him on the floor."

Yes! Groot wanted them to pin him to the floor. He needed to find the boundaries of his body again and this wasn't doing it.

"Rocket, tend to your wound," Gamora grunted with the effort of keeping Groot's right arm flexed, "We can manage."

"I'll be right back," Rocket cast a worried glance that Groot met very briefly, "I promise, Groot."

"We'll go on three. Groot, we're gonna help you, buddy. I dunno what you understand right now...we're gonna help."

 _I dunno what you understand right now_  cut like knives. Quill didn't mean to sound so condescending. Groot wasn't in the right realm of thought to let the accidental insult bother him for long.

"One..."

Quill's arms tightened. Drax adjusted his grip. Gamora's muscles tensed.

"Two..."

Swift pangs wrenched a moan from Groot's throat. He resisted until he couldn't anymore.

"Three."

Together, the three of them maneuvered Groot onto the floor. Groot's gaze fell across the door Rocket would emerge from. His nerves were full of popping lava bubbles. He growled, slamming his forehead into the floor because nothing else made it stop. The chew tube almost slipped out of his mouth. Quill daringly reached down to push it back in.

"Groot, no!" His hand kept Groot's head pressed against the cold floor. Leather creaked as he shifted to pat perfect triangles into the back of his neck with his fingers, "Easy, easy..."

Drax relaxed his grip momentarily to scratch an itch on his face. Groot immediately freed that hand and clocked himself in the jaw. Once. Twice. Quill stopped patting his neck to halt the self-abuse.

"Switch," he told Drax, "You pat, I'll hold. Groot? Groot, hey, it's-- gah! He's out of control!"

Fresh fear and pain spun Groot's awareness into unreality. His wrist hurt. His body hurt. He swore even his brain hurt. Nothing made sense until Drax's hand resumed the incomplete triangular pattern. He snarled viciously, voicing his ire. Gamora had to practically lay across his back to keep his arm still. Quill eventually copied her. They flexed his elbows simultaneously. That worked to calm him before, but not this time. He needed more weight!

Groot kicked the floor. He twisted his hips, trying to turn supine and get up. Not because he wanted to. His body reacted to the diffuse pain independently of his mind. He knew he would bite, thrash and beat himself senseless if he got free. No amount of willing himself still helped. Drax had to sit on his legs. Quill took over patting his neck. The humiliating terror wouldn't relent. Groot cringed inwardly, his mind submerging below memories.

Rav and Peth burst into the room and pressed themselves against the wall near Groot's cage. He could smell their pheromones as they engaged in obvious foreplay. Perturbed, he closed his eyes. It was all he could do to grant them privacy-- the restraints pinning him to the bars allowed no other movement.

"Look, he's shy," Peth cooed at her lover, "Do you think he understands what we're doing?"

Rav snorted, "Pfft! He's a retard, he doesn't know us from the wall. How about we give him a show? Open your zipper. Hey, stupid! Look!"

Groot's eyes snapped open in time to get an eyeful of Peth's large yellow breasts and orange nipples. He ducked his head, uncomfortable, but his mouth flexed involuntarily into a grin. The smile didn't reach his eyes.

" _I_  am  _Groot_ ," Groot tried to compliment the woman's mammary glands, hoping to end this embarrassment quickly.

But, as usual, his use of language went without acknowledgement because he didn't speak their way.

"Betcha you like 'em big," Peth cradled her breasts on her hands and jiggled them.

Groot indicated the affirmative, trying again to appease her and diffuse the situation.

Rav undressed as Peth snickered. Groot soon found himself staring at the greenish veins lining Rav's erection.

"How about this?" Rav sneered, "You into penises, Groot?"

A loaded question Groot wasn't sure he understood. He nodded once because he figured that was the answer Rav expected. In the therapy room, giving them what they wanted often stopped unpleasant stimuli.

Cringing, Groot cast his eyes downward. Two strong shocks made him gasp-- he forced himself not to scream. Screams meant punishment, too.

"This is your sex education. You're supposed to watch. Now look!" Rav waved his erection near the bars. Groot squeezed his eyes shut. The shock collar hummed to life. They weren't giving him a choice.

So, Groot watched them have intercourse on the exam table. Rav positioned Peth and himself in such a way that Groot saw everything being done.

Groot watched Rav insert his erection into Peth's birth canal. He watched the rapid in and out motions. He watched Rav fondle Peth's breasts and something nestled in her pubic hair. He watched Peth's vulva swell and darken in color. He watched Peth arch with a sharp cry. He watched Rav shudder, pull out and ejaculate on her thigh. He watched  _everything_.

Rav wiped the goop off Peth's thigh and approached the cage, his softening erection glistening with lubricating fluids.

"Here, treat."

Treat usually meant food or water. Not this. Groot eyed the semen on Rav's hand warily.

"Lick it, stupid," Rav barked.

This was wrong. Groot didn't want to obey. He drew back and struggled against his restraints.

Zap went the collar.

"Lick it, or you'll never see water again."

Thirst felt worse than this. Groot obediently licked the man's hand clean and gained a lifelong hatred for sour-flavored anything. The revolting taste was forever associated with guilt, humiliation and shame.

Rav stroked his flaccid male organ, grinning.

"Heh! His tongue feels disgusting," he snickered and reached for his pants.

Groot peered longingly at the water container across the room.

"Good job," Peth said under the guise of praise, "Look at me."

When he forced himself to meet her eyes, she rubbed her sour-smelling vaginal fluids on his cheeks and blew him a kiss.

"You don't realize you're nothing but units to us, do you?"

Scared now, Groot whined. His large brown eyes pleaded with them for a drink. A sip. A drop.  _Anything_.

Rav gazed at Peth. Peth smirked at Rav. Both snickered, and left without giving him the water they promised.

Three days of therapy passed. On the third night, Rav coaxed Groot out of his cage after the lights in the hallways went out. Groot saw Peth undressing and covered his eyes, horrified.

"Hands down and eyes open," commanded Rav.

Comply or suffer. Groot obeyed because he didn't have the strength to fight back. These aliens did not know or care that thirst caused a stinging sensation throughout his body. They did not know or care how feeling thirsty clouded his mind so he couldn't process most of their "lessons" without several repetitions. But they realized they achieved something when he started obeying just to make the agony stop.

Distressed, Groot shifted his weight from foot to foot and flicked his fingers near his eyes, trying desperately to regulate his tousled senses. The glare of lights on the floor and metal table hurt his eyes. Hearing his own drying-out body creak terrified him. Jormin ensured he always got small drinks and tiny rations of tasteless vegetable mush every few days regardless of his behavior. Enough to keep him alive and nothing else.

"Quiet hands," Peth said.

" _I_  am Groot," he moaned.

"Quiet hands. Stand still," Peth grabbed his arms and forced them down at his sides. He kept them there after she let go.

"Good, good standing!" she cooed at him. Something evil shone in her expression and she said, "Rav, you wanted to do this. He's ready."

Groot stared straight ahead at the opposite wall of the room. He did not look when Rav approached his right side.

"I wouldn't have to do this if you weren't too stupid to talk," Rav snickered. His palm cupped Groot's pubic bark and began feeling between the natural breaks. "Where is it?"

Groot silently endured the discomfort. Another hand slid between his backside and the wall. He realized Rav was searching for genitals or an anal opening. Never in his life did he feel so glad to lack both.

"Nothing here," Rav scoffed, "Go figure. What do you do, pollinate?"

Offended, Groot scowled at the man.

"Oh, hush, we're supposed to be having fun," Peth swatted Rav aside and led Groot's hands to her breasts, "Since you like putting things in your mouth so much, how about you try one of these?"

She yanked his face down there without letting him decide for himself. Such a sudden move drove two collar spikes right into the nerves in his neck. His mouth flexed open from the sharp pain. She shoved her nipple into it, cutting off his gasp.

Groot's only defense was to remain very, very still. Feeling the soft, dimpled skin in his mouth filled him with disgust. Sensory information he didn't want fought for dominance in his consciousness. Nipples grew erect when stimulated. Groot sucked on it a few times, ignoring Peth's surprised gasps.

"He's sucking on it!" Peth laughed, "Oh wow, that feels good."

The dimpled skin rapidly grew warmer and firmer. Groot recognized the shape now. He wrapped his vine-like tongue around her erect nipple and pushed it out past the boundaries of his lips. Then he closed his mouth tight, preventing reentry.

"Oh, wow, you're right. His tongue feels disgus-- hey! He spit me out," Peth's grating giggle pierced Groot's ears.

"Did he? Hm...wait, is the door locked?" Rav took Peth's place while eyeing the door.

"Naturally," Peth stepped aside with a flick of her long hair, "Jormin thinks we're clocked out."

"Nice."

They knew this was wrong. They knew they were abusing their authority. They  _knew_.

A growl rose in Groot's throat, stifled only by his fear of the shock collar. Pressure from Peth's hands held him bent at the waist.

"Let's see you spit this out," sneered Rav.

Groot soon had a mouthful of something else. Rav had Peth move her hands and grasped the back of Groot's head to keep him motionless. He pushed himself all the way in. Groot couldn't swallow, cough or breathe. The firmness ending in a spongy tip felt utterly nasty against his teeth.

Again, Groot tried to be a statue. The erect penis retracted halfway and jerked back in four times.

"No gag reflex. Peth, look at this, he's not even gagging! I'm going all the way in, too," he slapped the back of Groot's head, "You never told us you were so good at this. Now come on, weed, spit me out. I dare you."

Snarling, tired of this degradation, Groot closed his teeth just enough to pinch the delicate skin between his molars. Rav emitted an undignified squeak and yanked his erection free. The relief of its removal brought an involuntary smile to Groot's face.

"You wanna bite? Huh? You think that's funny?" Rav kneed him in the chin. The blow didn't hurt.

Groot stole a glance at the water container beside the door. Peth wasn't blocking it anymore. Since neither therapist would be offering him a drink after this misbehavior, he acted out of sheer desperation. He threw himself across the table and scrambled for the container. Peth's clothes aided his slide. He ripped the water container's lid off, submerged his face and gulped greedily.

"Disobedient piece of shit! No!"

Rav suddenly tackled him from behind. Water splattered everywhere when they hit the floor. Groot shoved his head back into the quickly-emptying container to drink more.

"No!" shouted Rav.

Being wet meant the shock collar hurt ten times worse than usual. Groot shrieked and writhed, nettles sprouting off his shoulders. The full-body restraints were applied despite them. Rav and Peth dragged him back into his cage and affixed him to the bars. He had to watch them have intercourse mere inches from his face. They laughed the entire time, drunk on the power they possessed.

"You don't get a treat this time, weed," Rav sneered, wiping his semen across Groot's face, "That's what you get."

Peth shot Groot a look that wasn't at all kind or sweet. She donned her clothes, straightened her mussed hair and approached the cage. Now the cloying charm turned on.

"Good fucking," she cooed, patting his cheek, "See you in therapy tomorrow."

Groot wouldn't have cared if she set him on fire. He wasn't in pain from thirst anymore. That was all that mattered to him.

Rav and Peth's escapades became a twice-a-week ritual. They slid the water container behind equipment in the corner where it couldn't be reached and started teaching Groot humiliating, degrading things. Groot did these humiliating, degrading things that felt horrifically wrong for tiny glasses of water. The disquieting sensations of stroking Rav's penis, sucking on Peth's breasts and licking up their sour sex fluids after watching them have intercourse were far easier to bear than thirst.

Behavior therapy happened as normal between their visits. Knowing how disgusting Rav and Peth were beneath their professional demeanor made Groot feel filthy. Though possessing no sexuality of his own saved him from the physical horror of what he endured, he knew being coerced into sex acts without his consent was wrong.

Plus, they committed the Flora Colossus equivalent to rape every time they forced him to make eye contact. It happened so often now that he felt empty of his Spirit.

And that wasn't the worst part of it in Groot's mind. No, the worst part was knowing Rocket grew up watching it happen. Once Rocket got old enough to understand situation and gained fluent speech, he committed acts Groot called pure bravery.

"Oh, yeah, ram it in harder. Let's hear her squeal. Come on! Is that all you've got?"

"I could fuck her better than you can and your dick's bigger than mine! You're both pathetic!"

"Ugh, look at those saggy tits. I bet they taste like Guna piss."

"That guy's dick looks like something I shit out last week. Put it back in her ass where it belongs. Yeah, you heard me! Ram it! Make it a real shit-show!"

Rocket's annoying commentaries prevented Rav and Peth from achieving their orgasms. No orgasms meant they couldn't force Groot to lick or touch the nasty fluids they produced.

"89P13 is becoming a pest," Peth complained the fourth time it happened.

Rav nodded, agreeing, "I'll fix that stupid little thing."

Naked, he stepped away from Groot and opened Rocket's cage.

"Hey! What the fuck're you doing?" Rocket squirmed against the knee pinning him to the floor in front of Groot's cage.

A glove snapped into place on Rav's hand. He wiggled his fingers, "Something new."

Peth gasped when Rav reached under Rocket's tail. Groot realized where those fingers were going. Rocket froze, eyes wide with horror.

Groot could almost feel the raccoon's pain as his own. He started to cry because there was nothing else he could do. Between sobs, he cursed at Rav and Peth without caring that they only heard the same three words: " _I AM **GR-O-O-O-O-T!**_ "

"You see this, weed?" Rav spat on Rocket, "This is your fault. You're the reason I'm doing this. Yes, you. You caused this because you wouldn't comply."

"Fuck you!" Rocket snarled, "Don't listen to him, Groot! Don't listen to this lying piece of--"

Rav twisted his hand, "Shut up, rodent!"

Rocket shrieked and lay still, his sides heaving with every breath. Rav's hand moved out from under his tail. Crimson blood and brown fecal matter coated the fingers of his white glove.

Peth grabbed Rav's arm. "You didn't kill that vermin, did you?"

"Nah," he slipped the glove off and dropped it on Rocket's back, "Heh, look, the weed's crying. Did you know he could cry?"

Peth's eyes narrowed. She threw away the soiled glove and scooped Rocket back into his cage. "No, but look at that reaction. We can use that to make him comply."

They got dressed and nonchalantly walked out without fornicating, both totally unbothered by the pain they wrought.

Groot's face was streaked with sap. This wouldn't have happened if he hadn't refused to stroke Rav's erection. He broke his promise. He caused Rocket harm.

Later that night, Rocket went delirious with abdominal pain and a fever. He was rushed to surgery for a ruptured colon because Jormin wasn't ready to lose his test subject yet. Afterward, Groot saw Rocket dumped unceremoniously into his tiny prison again. He came to rest near the bars dividing their cages. Despite his restraints, Groot managed to wiggle himself closer to the separation between them. He had no other way to reach out and touch his friend, so he used his forehead to nuzzle his furry side through the bars.

"Mm," Rocket uncurled to look at him, "Hey."

Hearing his voice sent hot aching straight to Groot's throat. His face contorted. He emitted a soft whine.

"What're you saying 'sorry' for?" asked Rocket. He turned over so their foreheads touched between the bars, "You didn't do anything wrong, Groot. They did. I couldn't let 'em keep humiliatin' you like that."

Rocket's courageous act achieved the desired result. Rav and Peth were reprimanded for endangering a test subject and forbidden from entering the cage room after operating hours. The sexual abuse stopped, but the scars of a broken promise remained.

Pain sank to tolerable levels. Groot relaxed to lay still, exhausted. The hands gripping his wrists hesitantly let go. Someone was squeezing his shoulders. He pressed into it, encouraging them to push harder. Green hands greeted his peripheral vision.

"Hey, you got him out of it. Nice!" Rocket's voice called from the lower level.

" _I am **Groot,** "_ Groot called back.

Rocket's claws scraped the stairs. He ascended them in a hurry.

"Restraints? You sure, Groot?"

"As in tie him up?" Quill butted in, "Didn't that happen to him on Halfworld?"

" **I**  am  _GROOT!_ "

Rocket shook his head. He used his teeth to finish tying a bandage to his wounded hand.

"We use soft restraints. He can still move if he needs to. Not the same thing as Halfworld. He asks for 'em when he knows he can't stop biting and hitting himself. Groot? I'll see if there's enough rope left. Hang tight."

Quill's eyes snapped from Rocket to Groot. He gave a cheek-puffing sigh and ran a hand over his hair, "How are we gonna--"

Groot struggled back into the chair to answer the question. He snatched up the water jug and drained the entire thing. Drax took it below for a refill.

Gamora waited patiently for him to settle before asking, "Do you want me to keep rubbing your shoulders?"

He indicated the affirmative and sagged backwards. Exhaustion left his eyes drooping, but the nagging pain bubbled like magma eager for another eruption.

Drax's footfalls crossed the flight deck and he set the water jug on the control panel.

"I thought this might be of comfort," he said, turning to offer Groot the little mandala coaster Quill gave him the last time they visited Sagevsal. Its purple outer rim, white center and intersecting black triangles vied for focus.

Grateful, Groot reached for it. His hand grasped Drax's wrist instead of the coaster. Then he couldn't make his fingers let go. He cast his friend a distressed, apologetic look. Drax carefully unhooked his fingers and closed them on the trinket. Groot mouthed it and held it close to his face until the central triangles blocked everything else. He grinned in delight, showing his gladness to thank Drax for his kindness.

And Drax  _got_  it. He gave his fingers a quick ripple and made a fist, a gesture Groot knew was self-stimulatory in its own right. Groot echoed it in silent solidarity.

"He's sure easy to please," Quill remarked, resettling in the pilot's seat.

"Any relief during an illness is worth searching for," came Gamora's half-whispered reply.

"Definitely," Rocket reappeared carrying pieces of leftover rope. "Looks like we'll have just enough to do this. You ready, Groot?"

Groot set the mandala down in his lap, folded his hands on top of it and nodded once. He shrugged his shoulders when Gamora's kneading motions lapsed. She quickly resumed while Rocket tied the ends of both rope lengths to the arms of the chair. The loose sections were affixed to each of Groot's wrists like nooses. Tight enough to prevent him from punching or biting himself, yet with a little slack to let him bring his hands together or rest them in his lap.

These restraints felt  _safe_. Just in time because the throbbing filling his entire right half was increasing again. Physical fear-- a reaction from his body rather than an emotion in his mind-- churned his stomach. He shrugged Gamora's hands off his shoulders and lowered his head, exposing the back of his neck.

"He wants you to tap him," Rocket said. He scooped the red chew tube off the floor when it fell.

"Which way is the most effective?"

Groot emitted a low-pitched whine. The nerve endings in his neck prickled with the need to be soothed.

"Use your fingers or your knuckles and tap as hard as you knock on a door. The speed doesn't matter, just keep it  _regular_."

Groot almost leapt out of his bark at the first uncertain poke. Too light! He pressed his knees together and squirmed. Gamora tried again-- better this time. She soon established a pleasant rhythm using her knuckles. Calming chemicals flooded his body. He relaxed his shoulders and wiggled his fingers towards his chew tube. Rocket passed it up to Drax, who held it in reach of his mouth.

Upon biting down, Groot remembered the first time Jormin took Rocket out of the cage. He didn't see his tiny raccoon friend for many hours. The room was dark when he heard the neighboring cage door open and close again. Darkness didn't bother Groot. His eyes preferred darkness over brightness, so he clearly saw every horrific detail.

The fur and skin on the baby raccoon's back was  _gone_ , replaced by metal. Rocket lay sprawled on his belly. Pain twisted his furry face. Bloody foam flecked his lips. His breathing sounded ragged.

Groot's heart broke for the helpless creature. He reached through the bars of their conjoined cages to stroke the raccoon's head. Rocket lashed out, his sharp teeth digging into Groot's twig-like fingers. He was in pain and didn't want to be touched. Groot understood and withdrew after growing a small pile of leaves as a peace offering.

Rocket's incisions wouldn't heal. He got taken away for more surgeries. Each time he returned, more infected flesh had been cut back. This kept happening until Jormin found a metal that didn't cause illness. The incisions slowly healed, leaving a few metal pieces exposed, but the fur never re-grew properly. Between surgeries, Rocket spent many hours with wires hooked to something under the skin behind his ears.

There came a morning in which Groot woke, tapped his limbs to ensure their presence and turned to check on his furry friend.

"I am Groot," he greeted him.

The little raccoon's brown eyes blinked. He pawed his mouth. Licked his lips. Coughed.

"I-I am Groot," the raccoon said back as if he spoke like the aliens his whole life, "You said 'good morning.'"

" _I_...am  _Groot?_ "

"Yes," answered Rocket, "I understand you fine. Can you understand me?"

Groot pressed his face against the bars between their cages and flashed his biggest, brightest grin. When  _couldn't_  he understand the little raccoon?

" **I**  am  _Groot!_ " he exclaimed in delight.

"Do you have a name?"

Blinking, Groot shook his head. Nobody on his planet had specific names the way aliens did. If a Flora Colossus wanted to speak to another Flora Colossus, they sought that person out to talk with them. Aliens used language to differentiate people from each other and objects, a practice Groot found rather interesting. Rav and Peth often called him  _tree, weed_  and  _stupid_. Comparing him to objects was a way of showing dominance because most objects had less value than living things.

"Well...how about I call you Groot, then?" Rocket spoke between bouts of grooming himself, "Those are the words you sound like you're saying every time you talk."

"I  _am_  Groot," rumbled Groot. He liked that name!

"Great to know ya, Groot. I'll tell you my name when I figure out what it is," Rocket bared his teeth in a grin and climbed to the third level of his cage.

Memory faded again. Groot sighed, the red chew tube dangling loosely from his jaws. Holding it didn't require much effort because it resisted pressure and forced his teeth apart. He couldn't make himself care about how he looked. Having the chew tube in his mouth gave the world a sense of solidity.

"Is he asleep?" Quill whispered from the pilot's seat.

Groot didn't indicate he wasn't. Once more pain was closing around his communication centers. He bore it easier if he didn't need to be 'on' for the people around him, so he kept his eyes shut.

"Heh, Gamora, you put him to sleep," Quill's whisper only rose slightly louder, "Maybe you should get some sleep yourself."

She sighed and stepped back. "I can't rest knowing he is suffering out here."

"Illness consumes a lot of strength," Drax cut in, "I shall prepare him a healthy bowl of meat soup if he requests a meal."

At those words, Groot's heart skipped several beats. His horror did not show outwardly.

"Idiot," hissed Rocket, "Groot can't digest meat, remember? He'll scream in pain until he pukes. Yeah, you heard me.  _Scream in pain_."

"...oh," mumbled Drax, "You are correct...I forgot."

"Tch."

"Fruit may be better for him right now," Gamora provided the voice of reason, "It requires little energy to digest."

Sharp jabs of agony smoothed into steady, dull aches. Groot wanted to nod in agreement because he was getting hungry, but he lacked the energy. Instead, he sank into memory once more.

Something different was nice after weeks of "touch this color" and "put with same" exercises. The patronizing praise Groot got for complying sounded better than collar shocks, but he hated it just as much.

Peth guided Groot to sit at the table in a small room he hadn't been in before. Rav set two plates with slabs of steaming brown stuff on the tabletop. Groot recognized the presence of meat by its musty smell.

"Watch," Rav said, picking up the knife and fork beside his own plate.

Oh, one of  _these_  annoying exercises. Groot learned kinesthetically. Being physically guided told his limbs what to do, which told his brain what to make them do. Did these damn aliens consider that? Of course not! He had to do everything their way or they called it wrong!

"Good watching," Peth spoke from the side.

Groot's eyes followed Rav's hands through cutting a slice of meat, lifting the first bite towards his mouth and eating it. He felt the wet slicing sounds in his teeth. How did aliens  _eat_  that?

"Now, you do it," Rav prompted by pointing, "Pick up your knife and fork."

Groot pushed his plate away because he couldn't eat meat. Peth swooped in to slide it back into position.

"No."

" **I**  am Groot!" Groot didn't know why he bothered protesting when they never listened. He moved the plate sideways this time and neatly placed his silverware on top of it.

Rav banged on the table, "Eat your meat, weed."

Groot's eyes narrowed. Months of being forced to play childish games with people who could not see his competence reached the breaking point. The scream building inside exploded outward. He stood abruptly, flipped the entire table over and hurled himself at Rav. It happened so fast Rav didn't have time to grab the collar remote.

But Groot didn't consider himself an offensive fighter. Violence wasn't something he enjoyed for the sake of causing pain. He didn't know what to do next once he had Rav pinned to the floor, so he grew nettles and growled menacingly. Maybe making this jerk of a therapist experience the feelings he inflicted would change his approach!

"We have a behavior emergency," Peth barked into a device on her coat lapel.

Bodies poured through the door moments later. Hands grabbed Groot's arms and legs. He could've fought them off if he wasn't so weakened by starvation and dehydration. As it was, he could barely manage the nettles. They broke off at the slightest touch.

Two orderlies forced him into a seated position on the chair he hadn't knocked aside. Rav rescued a meat slab and its plate. Someone else righted the table.

Peth forced Groot's head back to ensure eye contact. Her stare was a blade piercing his innermost being.

"You don't know what's good for you, do you?" she shouted at him, giving his head a shake, "Can't you see we're trying to  _help_  you mold into society? Do you understand anything we tell you?"

A fourth shake jammed one of the collar spikes into a nerve. Groot screeched. Rav came from nowhere and shoved a chunk of meat into his mouth when it opened. He pushed it so far back that Groot swallowed by reflex and froze right after.

Peth let go of him.

"Good eating.  _Good_  eating! There, was that so hard?"

The pain started as the orderlies filed out. Like something burning him open from the inside. His digestive enzymes collected around the meat and steadily grew more acidic in a failed attempt to chemically dissolve indigestible material.

Nobody understood why he collapsed into a writhing, screaming, self-biting ball of rage on the way back to the cage room. The shock collar barely registered. His legs stopped listening to his body. He writhed helplessly on the floor. Terrified by his disorientation, he reached for the very sources of abuse in seek of comfort.

"Tch, now he wants attention. You aren't gonna get it, weed! Are you mad because you didn't get to eat? You should've thought about that before you pulled this stunt. Now shut up and walk!"

Rav forced Groot bodily upright and marched him back to his cage. Groot lacked the energy to care when the restraints and feces-laden gag were strapped in place. He kept screaming anyway, only pausing to cough.

Rocket jolted awake at the noise and looked on with distressed eyes.

"Hey! HEY!" he rattled his own cage door, "You're leaving him like that? Help him! You can't just-- hey! Get back in here! You're sick motherf--"

A well-timed collar shock silenced him.

Groot sobbed between shrieks and coughs. Sap tears streaked his face. He barely reacted when his shock collar went off in response to his cries. The growing agony ripping through his nerves left him wishing for death. Flora Colossi loved being alive...but this wasn't  _alive_.

"I'm here, Groot," Rocket tried to reach out and touch Groot's head. The distance between them wouldn't allow it, "I'm here for you."

Finally, the acidic enzymes stretched Groot's stomach to its limit and he vomited violently. The gag forced the first wave of material straight into his lungs. Another blast dissolved it enough to fall off. Undigested meat and greenish goo splattered down his chest and spread out on the floor in front of him.

No more abdominal pain. Oh, what relief! The surface burns would heal and they hurt far less. Groot coughed up everything he aspirated before resting with his eyes closed. The damage was done; he couldn't take a breath once the coughing stopped.

Going a few hours without air didn't pose much of a problem. Uncomfortable, though not fatal. He breathed to expel wastes.

Rocket didn't know this. The moment Groot's chest stopped rising, he pounded his cage bars. "Groot? Groot! No, Groot! No, no, no! Don't die, Groot, don't die! Breathe! You have to breathe! You have to--" his voice cracked, "Groot! Please, Groot, you've gotta breathe!"

Groot opened his eyes when Rocket's shouting turned into sobbing. He placed all his strength towards stretching out a vine and wiping the tears off his friend's face. Rocket was so relieved he cried harder. Groot captured every teardrop to apologize for scaring him.

Then he raised his head and stared out the  _Milano's_  front window. A magnificent bowl-shaped supernova remnant filled his view. Blue and very faint purple were the only colors he made out-- not even his great dark-adapted eyes could see the nebula's full colors without taking a long-exposure image. But he could see the delicate filamentary structure in all its glory.

"Like the view?" asked Quill.

The smile on Groot's face said it all. He glanced at the mandala coaster in his lap, then up out the window again. If he looked back and forth fast enough, white afterimages of the black triangle outlines superimposed themselves over the nebula.

"Hey, Rocket?"

Rocket stopped tinkering with his gun, "Yeah, what?"

Quill had that inquisitive look squinting his features.

"Can Groot spell?"

Somehow, the question sounded more amusing than it should have.

"Tch, ask him yourself!" snapped Rocket.

"Uhh..."

Groot let him off the hook with a lazy nod. Quill's face lit up and he scrambled off his chair. He practically dove to the level below the flight deck. Rummaging noises followed.

"Quill?" Rocket's ears twitched.

Drawers opened and slammed. Then a crate. Cabinets. More drawers. A half-gasped 'aha!' preceded footsteps banging up the metal staircase.

"Found it!" Quill puffed and set a transparent data pad down on Groot's lap.

This data pad felt thicker and heavier than Rocket's. Nubs covered the entire back to aid in gripping. Groot liked that texture because it helped determine which side was the front.

Quill touched all four corners in a clockwise fashion to turn the data pad on and showed Groot which icon opened a word pressing program. Below the blank white space, a purple touch-screen keyboard glowed.

"It's not like the data pad you borrowed in the hospital..." Quill paused to catch his breath, "This'll help you talk to us, Groot. You can push the green arrow to make it read what you write so we can hear it. Only downside is it sounds kinda robotic. This thing's fifteen years old."

Making sense of Quill's rapid-fire talk took Groot a good minute or two. He studied the keyboard, stretched out his left index finger and touched a letter. And he touched it again. Four times in a row. Finally, he dragged his brain out of the rut and deleted the row of T's to start over.

Typing was extremely slow because Groot used just his left index finger to choose each letter. Compacting his wordless thoughts into words took great effort-- he had to stop and rock several times during his mental translations-- but he welcomed Quill's desire to help him communicate.

He approximated meanings rather than worry about correct grammar. At last, he moved his hand to the green arrow icon to make it play. The data pad read his words mechanically without emotion.

**Can you pleases gives me water? I am thirsts.**

"Water? Sure!" Quill brought the jug and Groot drank half of it in three huge gulps.

Grateful, Groot touched the letters again.  **I am done drinks for now. Thanks you for helps. The nebula looks beautiful.**

"No problem, Groot. Glad you like-- no, no, keep it," Quill lightly slapped his arm, a friendly gesture, "The stuff you want to say matters, man."

A lump welled at the back of Groot's throat, yet he smiled gratefully. Quill's idea for establishing communication was heartwarming. He didn't mean to be insulting when questioning Rocket earlier, so it wasn't fair to hold his ignorance against him.

Groot peered at the data pad and typed.

**Thanks you. I appreciates this gifts.**

Quill chuckled, stepping back, "No problem."

Rocket slowly set his tools down. He came around in front of Groot, his brown eyes flicking between the data pad and his face. Sometimes, Groot forgot his raccoon friend was acclimated to him expressing himself through behavior, facial expressions, scents and the meaning braided within his three-syllable utterances.

This device let Groot talk like everyone else. Looking down at it, he slowly spelled out a word he longed to say the standard way, yet never could.

**Rocket.**

Now Rocket's lower lip had a definite quiver to it. He brought his hand up as if stifling a cough to cover the lapse in demeanor. Quill recognized the private moment and beat a quiet retreat below deck.

Groot looked Rocket square in the eyes. He grinned and typed.

**I love you. Friends. Always, really and forever.**

Rocket sniffed and cleared his throat, "You sappy idiot," he smiled back, "Quill gave this to you to tell us what you need."

The unspoken joy in his tone sent warmth pulsing across Groot's discomfort. He squirmed, channeling it until the sensation became tolerable. His twig-like fingertip slowly selected more letters.

**I needs you to knows the words I just uses.**

"Then your priorities are messed up."

Groot snickered.

**You is jerk!**

"Idiot."

**Jerk.**

"Idiot."

**Jerk. Jerk. Jerk. Jerk. Jerk. Jerk.**

"Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot!"

**Idiot.**

"Jer-- shut up!" Rocket fake-growled.

An exchange shot between them many, many times, yet never in this way. Their eyes met again. They chortled at each other.

Pain began to rise again, igniting Groot's nerve endings one at a time. His eyes started to go blank. Distressed, he typed again. The data pad flashed red errors saying it couldn't read the text, so he gestured frantically at the screen until Rocket read it upside-down.

**BBBBBBody hurtttts. SSSorry ffffor bbiteeeessyouuu.**

"Tch, s'fine. Didn't even hurt." Rocket eyeballed the faintly bloodstained bandage before looking up at Groot, "Here, lemme get this stuff out of the way so you don't break it."

He set the data pad aside and propped the mandala coaster against the water jug. Then he vaulted onto the arm of the chair and held the rubbery red chew tube close to Groot's mouth, letting him decide when he wanted to bite it.

Groot hung his head and closed his eyes. The misery stabbed invisible swords upward through his back. He tried to resist it, to not lose control again, yet his body reacted by itself like someone flinching away from a flame. The knots in his stomach he normally associated with anger appeared next. Gray numbness trailed close behind. Gasping, he grabbed the chew tube with his teeth and hurled his body backwards to relieve the internal pressure. The restraints prevented his hands from reaching higher than his chest. All he could manage was light slaps against his own legs.

"I'm ridin' this one with you," Rocket patted triangles into the back of his neck, "You're gonna be okay, Groot."

Behavior therapy changed after Rav and Peth received reprimands for the meat incident. Jormin figured out what went wrong and the scant food rewards Groot received for 'good behavior' consisted of tasteless black oat pellets. They didn't upset his stomach, yet being occasionally fed one for each correct response felt degrading. Worse, hunger and thirst forced him to give his therapists what they wanted for the momentary relief of food or water.

Groot ducked his head when he realized he was being led into the small gray therapy room. He remembered being released into this room when he first arrived at this place. The colorful toys were gone, replaced with a square metal table.

As usual, Peth put on a mask of effervescent sweetness and praised Groot for the simple task of sitting down quietly.

The overhead light emitted an annoying buzz and created glare on the reflective metal table. Stinging chemical scents lingered like echoes he could smell. He rocked back and forth, bumping his back into the plastic backing of the chair to channel the energy his discomfort created. Dehydration caused his body to emit loud creaks and crackles, but he'd grown accustomed to the low level of pain related to thirst.

Peth grabbed Groot's shoulders. The brown moss clinging to them fell off like dust.

"No rocking."

She left the room. Groot immediately resumed rocking. Pain shot through his body. Startled, he froze mid-motion until the misery ceased.

Noises in the hall. A familiar voice. Rav entered, unceremoniously dropped a wiggling black sack on the table and walked out without explanation.

Confused, Groot focused his attention on the twitching foreign object. He tugged the silver cord holding it shut, and out popped a familiar raccoon.

"Where the hell are you taking m--" Rocket blinked in the bright lights and sat up on his haunches, "oh, hey, Groot! What's up?"

They had only ever seen each other with bars between them. Groot could not suppress his open-mouthed smile. Pure delight formed a bubble in his throat, so he squealed to externalize it and extended his hands. Rocket chuckled and hopped into Groot's arms without hesitation.

Finally, they were able to embrace.

Groot nuzzled his face against the top of Rocket's head. He parted his lips for a quick, surreptitious lick to learn what his fur tasted like, but it didn't really have one.

"Ooh, scratch my back!" Rocket twisted to help Groot reach the spot. Groot's fingers ghosted past the shock collar, bare skin and metal implants to give his friend's furry lower back a good scratching. "Ahh, yeah! That's the spot!"

"I am  _Groot?_ "

"Mmph, way better. Listen, the jackass squad is gonna be back soon."

" **I**  am Groot?"

"I dunno either," Rocket shuddered noticeably, "I thought I was having another procedure done."

Whirrs signaled the door opening. Rav and Peth stepped in wearing unreadable expressions. Peth had pulled her long hair back into three braids.

"How cute," Rav scoffed as Peth sat down in the other chair behind the table.

Groot's smile slipped when recollections of Rav's gloved, bloodied fingers near Rocket's tail crossed his mind. He turned away from the yellow alien, putting himself between him and Rocket.

"Sit," said Peth, and Groot did so without relaxing his hold on Rocket.

"Good sitting!" she exclaimed.

Rav whispered to her, unaware Groot heard it clear as day, "Oh yeah, this'll work. Do you hear the difference in his vocalizations?"

She hissed back, "Definitely. He's very attached to Subject 89P13. Look how he guards him from you."

"Mmhmm."

"That humming is more annoying than the groaning," Rav snorted, "Ready to start?"

"Yup. Tree..." Peth tapped the tabletop, "Look at me."

The words Groot dreaded. They got in trouble for forcing meat down his throat, so maybe they couldn't punish him like before. He avoided the woman's eyes by turning his head. Peth reached across the table, grabbed his chin and forced his face towards her.

" _Look_  at me!" she tried again.

He kept his eyes averted. Rav moved into his peripheral vision. He held up the device that delivered collar shocks. A threat. When yet another 'look at me' garnered no response, he pushed the button.

Groot felt nothing. In his lap, Rocket jerked with a surprised howl.

"Ow! What the f-- ow!"

Startled, Groot tried to look down and make sure Rocket was okay. Peth's grip on his chin tightened. "LOOK at me."

Rocket shrieked again.

"That's your fault," said Rav, "You're making the rodent suffer," he pushed the button once more and Rocket's tail jerked.

Peth banged on the tabletop, "Look at me and he'll stop hurting."

Horrified, Groot forced his eyes to stare at hers. He pleaded for Rocket's pain to end.

"Good. Good eye contact!" Peth smiled broadly and gestured for Rav to stop giving Rocket shocks. She popped an oat pellet into his mouth, "Good job!"

The zapping noises stopped. Rocket spat a string of curses between pained moans.

"Ain't your fault, Groot," he coughed.

Groot didn't want to do this. Not if it meant Rocket suffered for his mistakes. He snatched Rocket up with a wordless screech and bolted to the door. His collar sent pain through his entire body. He fought harder, ramming his hip against the metal doorframe. Rocket scrambled onto his shoulder.

"Groot!"

Rocket's collar buzzed. He stiffened and toppled to the floor with a sickening plop.

"I  _am_   **Groot!** " Groot bent over his ailing friend.

A high-pitched moan escaped Rocket's throat. Strings of saliva stretched with his head when it suddenly tilted forward towards his chest. The long moan became growls and shrieks as muscle contractions jerked his body like a leaf in the wind. His tongue sloshed around inside his mouth. Blood mixed into the foam forming on his quivering lips.

"Implant fault. Note it down for Jormin," Peth's voice held no concern for Rocket at all.

"Got it."

Rav approached from behind. Groot spun around and elbowed him in the ribs without waiting to see the blow's effect. Rocket's convulsions peaked with his bladder's contents escaping. He lay still afterward, surrounded by his own puddle. Groot didn't care and sat down in it to remain at his friend's side. Rocket's unblinking eyes stayed rolled back, revealing crescents of white. Every heaving inhale slurped and each exhale hissed wetly through the pink foam clinging to his teeth. Clear mucus dribbled from his nose. He didn't respond to being prodded or spoken to.

"I am Groot," whimpered Groot. He blamed himself for this. It did not matter that Rocket said it wasn't his fault-- this happened because of his noncompliance. His behavior caused Rocket's suffering. He broke his promise  _again_.

Footsteps pounded through the hallway outside. The Guna burst into the room. Groot looked up to let him know Rocket was hurt only to have the sleepy gas mask shoved over his face. Short bursts of it always subdued him without robbing him of consciousness. He sank onto the ground without a fight and let himself be carried out.

"Ugh, you smell like piss!" the Guna complained, "Into the showers you go."

Groot endured the hell of being bathed without making a peep. Somehow, he found a silent space in his mind that let him withstand the slimy soap, the painfully rough scrubbing, the cold water spray and the scratchy towel without recoiling. Being forcefully bathed also allowed him to absorb some of the water he so desperately needed.

"Good behavior," said the burly Guna. He rewarded Groot's passive compliance with a tiny canister of fruit flavored juice. It tasted sour and lukewarm. Groot gulped it despite the horrible memories because he didn't know when he would get another drink.

Rocket recovered overnight. He showed no ill effects from his long fall or the seizure. His only complaint was not being able to remember what happened between the time Groot opened the bag and awakening again in his cage.

The very next morning, Groot was once again taken into the gray therapy room. He saw an angry-looking Rocket sitting on the table, his snout held shut with a muzzle. Sap tears welled in his eyes. He let Rav lead him by the arm and sit him in the uncomfortably cold chair. A grimace twisted his face. His fingers twitched. Today, his body wasn't entirely under his control.

"Quiet hands," Peth said, smiling.

Groot let his hands rest limp in his lap.

"Now, quiet sitting."

He forced himself to stop groaning. The only barriers between him and the onslaught of sensory information from the room fell. He felt like someone set his nerves on fire and would punish him for showing the pain.

Rocket growled behind the muzzle.

"Shush!" Rav nudged him. He winced and clutched the side that got elbowed the previous day.

"Good sitting. Good!" Peth allowed Groot to pick up the glass of water she kept on the table. She took it away from him after two small sips. "Look at me."

Groot reached for the water glass without looking at her. She moved it away and nodded to Rav. Rocket's collar sizzled. The raccoon jerked up into a standing position only for Rav to shove him down again.

A faint moan sounded in Groot's throat.

"Look at me," Peth prompted, and this time he obeyed. "Good! Good looking!"

Groot shot Rocket an apologetic glance. He quickly associated his natural behaviors with Rocket suffering, so he started to comply for his friend's sake.

They took his coping mechanisms away. They broke his will in the name of fixing him. They finally won.

Day in and day out, Groot endured grueling lessons on manipulating objects he hardly understood because he wasn't allowed to explore them with all five senses. He completed meaningless tasks and endured degrading praise so Rocket wouldn't suffer.

Reality ceased making any sense. He hardly daydreamed anymore because his thoughts stayed wrapped around doing everything right.

Maybe his species  _did_  take a wrong turn on the evolutionary path. Maybe something broke and needed fixing. Maybe letting these people remold him was the right thing to do. It wasn't as if his thoughts, feelings or needs mattered.

So he became passive. No more combative behavior, no more repetitive motions and no more random vocalizations. He did everything they demanded.

Rav and Peth called it progress. Groot didn't recognize himself anymore.

Tears dribbled along his cheeks. Loud, uncontrollable sobs shook his body. He stopped rocking-- when did he start? --and pressed his face against Rocket's chest. Rocket stopped patting his neck and rubbed his shoulders instead.

"I've gotcha. You're okay, Groot. We're not in that shithole anymore. This pain ain't the shock collars. Yeah...I know it hurts. I  _know_ ," his voice vibrated in his chest along with his heartbeat. He started talking to someone else while Groot cried into his shirt, "He's been having flashbacks of Halfworld on top of everything else. Happens whenever he gets sick."

"Poor guy. That has to suck," Quill replied softly.

Groot wiped his cheeks against Rocket's shirt before straightening. Blinking cleared the sap blurring his eyes. Bits of Rocket's fur, his blue shirt and the loose ends of his red chew tube were covered in the sticky substance.

Quill looked over. His expression lit up a little. "Hey, are you back with us?"

Groot let the chew tube drop out of his mouth. He was too exhausted to control his emotions or care what anyone thought of him letting them all show.

Rocket, on the other hand, made a face at the sap sticking to everything. Absently, he licked some off his uninjured hand.

"Groot, listen, I'm gonna go wash this off so it doesn't trigger you more. I know you don't like sap on your chew tube. I'm taking the water jug to refill it, too. Okay? I'll be right back and I'll bring everything back with me. Promise."

Groot gave a nod and Rocket climbed off his lap to attend those things. He stiffened at a gentle hand touching his back. Its owner came around front.

"I am no stranger to flashbacks," said Gamora, "They are an awful nuisance."

Once more, he nodded without looking up. A forlorn groan quivered in his aching throat. The ache became fresh tears oozing down his cheeks. Embarrassed, he tried to hide his face from her.

"Hey, Rocket, lemme help you with that," Quill left the flight deck in a hurry to join Rocket below.

The first new sob shook Groot's body. He hung his head lower because the heaviness of his heart tugged so hard on his mind. Everything felt entirely out of his control. He was bare before everyone on the ship who passed through the flight deck.

"Shhh, I understand," Gamora spoke with a voice of painful experience, "I understand, Groot." She straightened to twist her long hair into a bun. Hesitantly, even awkwardly, she reached out to him, "Would...would you allow me to embrace you?"

Groot used the moment to notice her attire. She wore a black cat-suit under the dark red leather jacket he remembered from the fight over Xandar. Sap likely wouldn't harm it.

He turned his hands palms-up. The restraints placed for his protection didn't let him spread his arms very far. Gamora got the message anyway. She sat sideways in his lap and embraced him. At her touch, the dam broke. He hid his face against her shoulder while she held him tight.

"I was tortured, too. I hated myself for so long because I felt trapped," Gamora whispered in his ear, "Then you and the others entered my life and--" she slapped her palm down on her knee, "Pff, I'm complicating this with words, aren't I? I want to speak as it comes natural for you, yet I'm unsure of how."

Gamora's heart seemed so heavy that Groot wondered how she carried its weight. He found the strength inside his own memories to close his fist around her elbow. She trembled at the careful touch, and a few seconds later he wasn't crying alone. Somehow, sharing their pain made it easier to bear.

Footsteps ascended the flight deck steps, paused and quickly retreated. Lighter ones soon followed.

"Groot, I've got your-- oof! Quill! Not the tail!"

"Rocket, private moment. Leave 'em alone," Quill hissed, "C'mon back down."

A snicker shot between Gamora's sniffles. The energy of it transferred to Groot, who emitted a most undignified hiccup. They began to laugh as hard as they were crying. Groot swore he tasted the sugary sensation growing in his chest. It almost matched the fruity scent of Gamora's hair.

Their tears and amusement quieted. Groot inhaled deeply before lifting his head off Gamora's shoulder. She took a scrap of cloth out of an inner pocket in her jacket, tapped it twice on her tongue and gently cleaned the sticky sap tears off his face. Her strokes followed the wood grain of his cheeks inward and down. Nothing about it was harsh or unfriendly.

"I remember Rocket telling us what you endured before we met...and I honestly wonder how you emerged still capable of compassion. It is truly a gift."

Groot grasped Gamora's hand when she stood up. She stopped to turn. He looked directly into her dark brown eyes and grinned like sunbeams between storm clouds. Her hand squeezed his as she smiled back. Then he relaxed his grip, quietly letting her fingers slip free. Her expression flashed with understanding and she walked away with a pensive half-smile alighting her face.

"How's he doing?" Quill's voice filtered up. The response got lost in the hiss of running water.

"Are you done having a moment?" Rocket's words preceded his appearance beside the co-pilot's chair. He'd exchanged his sap-stained blue outfit for his orange one.

" _I am_  Groot."

"Really? She did?"

Groot gave a broad, growling yawn and smacked his lips because he felt genuinely hungry.

Rocket set the full water pitcher and clean chew tube on the console. He slipped the data pad into Groot's lap again, then held up the green mesh sack in his other hand, "I brought you some of these. Nobody else wants any and I know you love 'em."

Xandarian apples-- sweet, juicy and crunchy with purple skin and green interiors. They were Groot's absolute favorite food in the universe. He always ate the whole thing, core, seeds, stem and all.

Rocket rubbed one on the leg of his pants until it shone like a purple jewel of deliciousness. "You gonna be okay if I untie the restraints?"

Groot indicated the affirmative, yet a nagging whole-body ache indicated the pain wasn't gone yet. Both his hands practically drifted away into nonexistence as soon as they got untied, but they recreated themselves whenever he looked intently at them. Being exhausted and sick made his proprioception  _worse_.

Rocket caught his right wrist and sniffed it. "Heh, doesn't stink as bad. The antibiotic's working."

Delighted, Groot eyed the purple apple Rocket set atop the data pad in his lap. Getting his hand to the fruit took intense focus. So did wrapping his fingers around it. He didn't grip tight enough and the apple fell out of his hand when he lifted his arm.

"Whoops!" Quill scooped the fruit off the floor and held it out to him. He looked on curiously upon witnessing Groot's struggle to take it. Rather than ask questions, he flipped it bottom-up the way Groot always ate them and moved it within easy biting reach, "Here, lemme help."

Groot easily bit half the apple off in one swoop. The satisfying sound of its crunch, the juiciness and the bursting sweetness offered welcome reprieve from the past few hours. He bounced happily in his seat before he realized he started doing it and leaned forward to take the rest of the apple.

"You want another one?"

 **Yes,**  Groot typed on the data pad.

Rocket hopped into the pilot's seat. "Quill, Groot destroys Xandarian apples in two bites. He never eats just  _one_."

"Says the guy who had me smuggle a pasta sandwich the size of himself into the hospital."

"Tch, I needed some real food. The slop they served me was worse than the Kyln. I might've staged an escape if I wasn't discharged."

Groot crunched the second apple Quill held out to him and recalled the sweetness of true freedom.

Water fell from sprinklers in the ceiling like indoor rain. Sparks flew off unprotected equipment. Faint smoke gave the air a pungent scent.

The whole laboratory slammed into emergency mode, which dimmed the overhead lights and illuminated eerie orange emergency lamps in the corners of every room.

Rocket yanked Groot's cage door open. Water slicked his fur down despite him repeatedly shaking it off.

"Hurry, we've gotta go while everybody's freaking out!"

"I  _am_  Groot...?"

"I hacked the security system through the wall console," Rocket smirked proudly, "They're gonna trace it right to this room pretty fast. C'mon!"

Rumbling in the hall ended with the door bursting open. There stood the Guna, the metal full-body restraints clinking in his hand.

"You! Get back in your cages!"

"Up yours," Rocket said snidely.

Groot waited for pain. None came because the Guna dropped the collar remote. Realizing this, he charged the burly technician and tackled him against the wall.

"Yeah! Kick his ass, Groot!" shouted Rocket.

Emboldened, Groot lifted the Guna off the floor by his nostrils and hurled him into the metal chair beside the cage. The blue alien's broad back hit the bars, which rang like bells on impact.

Groot seized the restraints and affixed the Guna to both the chair and the bars. Just like he himself spent so many hours. He stood back, thought twice and grabbed the gag.

"Hey!" bellowed the Guna, "You can't do th--" the rest of his words were lost behind the metal bar shoved in his mouth.

" **I**  am  ** _Groot!_** " Groot jabbed an accusing finger at the Guna's shocked face. No more!

"Nice one!" Rocket cackled and pointed to the doorway, "Look over there."

Groot saw the remote for his shock collar. He walked over and stomped on it. The crunch as it broke into a million pieces sounded like liberation. He relished the pinching sting of the spikes retracting out of his cambium tissues. For the first time in a long while, he turned his head without feeling pain.

"I am Groot," he told Rocket.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Rocket frisked the restrained Guna until he came up with his emergency stun prod. Just a small rod that crackled with electricity at the squeeze of a fist. He tested it on the Guna's crotch. If the screams and loss of consciousness meant anything, it worked just fine.

"Now let's g--"

"Not so fast!"

Groot tripped Jormin with a vine as he rushed into the cage room. The blue-skinned Kree fell flat on his face. Rocket leapt onto his chest when he rolled over to sit up. Now a full-grown raccoon, he successfully pinned the scientist against the floor with his weight.

"Been wantin' to say this to your face for awhile," he growled and pressed the prod to Jormin's throat, "Fuck you!"

Jormin convulsed with a scream. His gloved hand grabbed the back of Rocket's neck. Rocket brought the prod down hard on his nose, breaking it in a splatter of blood. Groot winced at the ping of metal on bone.

" _Fuck_  you!" Rocket snarled, whipping the prod against Jormin's cheekbones next. Pained anguish had his lips quivering, "Fuck you,  _fuck_  you, fuck  _you!_ "

A fourth blow left the barely-conscious Kree choking on his own front teeth. The fifth and sixth jammed his broken nose into his brain. One last strike to the chin and the hand gripping Rocket's neck fell limp.

Panting, Rocket spat on Jormin's face, "How do you like it? Huh? How's that feel? This ain't nothing compared to what you did to me! Nothing! You worthless piece of shit!" He climbed off the scientist's chest and kicked him repeatedly in the ribs. Each kick was punctuated by the same two words: " _Fuck you!_ "

The kicks continued until Groot heard the snap of ribs breaking. Only then did Rocket stop. He twirled the prod as he exited the door. The only sounds were water spraying, buzzing alarms, a voice on the intercom and Jormin's gurgling exhales.

Groot stared at the fallen Kree, shaken by how Rocket reduced a fully functional being to a bloody pulp in a few seconds of pure rage.

The eerie lights gave Jormin's blood a blackish cast. The upward heaves of his pectoral muscles pulled his chin downward and he opened his mouth wide each time he gulped air. Every breath took effort, yet seemed equally effortless. Spasms arched his back. His mouth gaped, relaxed to half shut and his tongue fell behind his shattered bottom teeth. Another squirming motion, one more twitch of his jaw, and something intangible left him.

It took Groot a few seconds to realize he just watched a man die. The transition from animated to inanimate was strangely unremarkable. He just faded away.

Flora Colossi who died from wounds, illness or natural causes did so far more dramatically. A period of no breathing at all turned into shallow panting culminating in a deep, labored gasp. The last exhale propelled the Spirit into Forever, leaving the empty body behind. Final gasps were greeted with cheers because everyone knew they would meet again. Deaths weren't sad until after the Spirit departed. Then the cheers became weeping and fond remembering.

A shudder ran through Groot. Seeing an alien die in a manner so  _foreign_  was a cursed gift. The heavy silence of it followed Groot into the hallway where Rocket waited with his back to the door. Water from the sprinklers had washed Jormin's blood off him, and it collected in cloudy swirls at his feet.

"Is he dead?"

Groot nodded.

Rocket placed his hand on the wall, leaned over and vomited.

"No goin' back now," he coughed, wiping his mouth. "C'mon. We've gotta go."

Their footsteps created wet slapping sounds on the soaked floor. Spinning red lights created moving patterns on the gray walls. Alarms buzzed rhythmically. Instructions for containment kept repeating over the intercom system. Rocket finally pulled a wire from a wall panel to stop the intercom, but the red lights and alarm continued without relenting.

One good thing came from the mind-numbing behavior therapy-- Groot recognized the meanings of the signs above the doors. Exit signs were lit up almost blinding white.

Rocket burst through the exit at the end of the longest corridor, revealing a branching Y-shaped hallway. Groot saw all the elevator doors open despite no elevators being present. The empty shafts looked like frightening voids in the gray walls.

A blast door slid shut in their faces, blocking their progress. Rocket didn't miss a beat.

"Damn it! Groot, gimme a boost to this panel!"

When Groot did it, Rocket clambered onto his shoulder, ripped the touch-screen panel off the wall and twisted several wires around the stun rod.

"I can't do this without killing myself. You're wood, so it won't hurt you. When I say go, squeeze the end of that rod and hold on until this blast door opens. This is gonna to overload the wiring and it's gonna make noises that hurts your ears. Sorry about that, but it's our ticket out," Rocket hopped off Groot's shoulder and jumped up to hang from a groove in the wall. "Ready, Groot? Go!"

Groot squeezed and felt the heat of electricity buzzing through the rod. Louder and louder, a rising whine he barely withstood before sparks flew. A puff of smoke preceded the door rising into the ceiling again.

The sprinklers finally shut off. Soaking wet people raced down the halls, many more intent on saving their own skins than worrying about loose test subjects.

"I am Groot?" Groot asked Rocket.

"Left!" Rocket bolted that way on all fours, his feet and hands splattering the water that collected on the gray tile floor, "I'm gonna scout ahead for more security doors. I'll come back and get you when it's clear."

Nodding, Groot watched Rocket's striped tail vanish into the distance.

"Freeze!" shouted a familiar voice. Groot turned his head, using his peripheral vision to look behind him. Peth held a stun prod of her own. She was wet and bedraggled, her orange hair a tangled mess.

A whimper escaped Groot's throat when she approached.

"Get back in your cage," Peth sneered without feigning sweetness. Frightening shadows crossed her face. Her stare left Groot feeling like nothing.

The meaning of a single word he could never say flashed in his mind. A word Peth, Rav, Jormin and the Guna consistently ignored in favor of blind compliance.

He stayed put.

Peth screeched, "I said get back in your cage!"

Solemnly, Groot shook his head.

Now she tried fake charm. She smiled shakily, a smile she didn't mean, "N-now come on, it's just a little drill. Let's take you back to your cage now. Be a good weed and you'll get a treat. I know you like treats."

 _Treat_  pooled dread into the pit of Groot's stomach.  _Treat_  flashed images of Peth's bare breasts bouncing in his face.  _Treat_  tasted sour like semen in his memory.

In a flash Groot cocooned Peth up to her neck in his vines, which promptly extended to dangle her over the empty elevator shaft. He walked closer, retracting his vines as he went until he held her at eye level. He fixed his gaze on a point between her eyebrows and upper eyelids and scowled. She cringed, turning her head aside as if unable to bear his baleful stare.

Now the abuser felt the pain and fear she helped inflict.

"D-don't drop me," she whimpered.

He had no intention of dropping her, but  _she_  didn't know that. Her whimper almost made him flinch. Almost. Did she mean it, or was this another act to toy with his emotions?

"I am Groot," he growled, loosening a few vines.

"No! No, please!" Peth's arms wriggled against her bindings. Huge tears streaked her face.

The vines ensnaring her feet slipped loose.

"No! No, no, no! Please! Please...I'm scared...please!"

Groot stepped back from the shaft while Peth wailed. He suddenly released all the vines holding her. She screamed in terror until she realized she only fell a short distance.

" _I am_  Gr-o-o-o-o-t!" Groot imitated the praising tone she used to often on him and lightly patted her cheek. He took a vegetable pellet from her lab coat pocket, smiled sweetly and stuffed it into her mouth. She coughed before swallowing it.

"I am... _Groot_ ," Groot told Peth to look by pointing a finger between his eyes.

When she did it, he backhanded her across the face. The blow knocked her out cold. He grabbed her arm and sat her against the wall across the hall. She had a concussion, but she would survive.

Footsteps stomped closer and the door beside Peth flew open.

"This is a bit much for a drill. Peth, let's--" Rav ran straight into Groot's chest. Groot lifted him by his face, carried him back into the recreation room and shut the door behind them. This was the only room without sprinklers. No wonder Rav mistook the chaos for a drill.

" _I **am**_  Groot!" Groot deposited the yellow-skinned alien on the chair closest to a table.

"What the...wha-- how did you get out?" Rav croaked. Somehow, throughout being carried and dropped, he maintained his grip on a half-full glass of water.

Rather than answer, Groot pried the shock collar off his neck and wrapped it around Rav's. When he noticed how loose it was, he bent it into a crescent shape. Rav emitted a wet choking noise, but Groot ensured he remained able to breathe.

"You're gonna get it, weed," he sneered, "Oh, you're gonna--"

Groot used four thick vines to pin Rav against the chair. A flicking motion of his arms separated them, leaving Rav immobile. He revealed the shock prod he took off Peth.

Rav frowned as sweat beaded on his bald yellow head. His breathing sped up. He gulped audibly.

His face utterly deadpan, Groot pressed the prod against Rav's forehead. Rav let out a sharp cry followed immediately the hiss of fluid trickling onto the floor. He'd lost control of his bladder.

Then he realized the prod wasn't shocking him. He stared up at Groot, confused.

"Why?"

Groot calmly took the water glass from the technician's hand, waved it in his face a few times and drank it. He placed the empty glass in his grasp again, patted his bald head and faced the wall console. Using one finger and a lot of concentration, he typed a short message.

**Good sits. Fuck you.**

Turning, Groot flashed Rav his most innocent smile. Rav's eyes opened wider than saucers as reflections of the text shone backwards across his empty water glass. He didn't look so intimidating with piss-stained pants and vines tying him down.

Rocket's voice yelled down the hall, "Groot, c'mon!"

Groot opened the door and walked out, his feet stepping casually over Peth's dazed form. He stuck his head back in the room with a shout.

Rav wailed, "Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me!"

"I  _AM_  Groot!" Groot laughed gleefully. He nudged Peth past the doorway and watched her collapse face-first onto Rav's wet lap.

Shutting the door this time wasn't good enough either. Groot hurled it open once more just to see Rav wince in horror. Peth was crying again. They both looked pathetic, having been robbed of their dignity.

Satisfied, Groot slammed the door shut without intending to return again. He looked both ways and spotted Rocket waving at him from the far end of the hallway.

"Hurry up, they're gonna reset the security system! Now get ready for some noise!"

Nothing prepared Groot for bursting into the main prison population. Gray seemed to be a theme in this place. Gray, silver, purple and black. The sounds ran over him like a battering ram. Black-clad bodies moved about in unpredictable patterns. Movement, colors, shapes...utter _cacophony_. His brain tried to piece it all together simultaneously. He covered his eyes, then his ears, then his eyes again. Everything started going gray like the walls. What did he need to do? How would he accomplish it?

Rocket climbed onto his shoulder, his weight reassuring in the sea of chaos.

"Keep it together, Groot. You see that big silver door with the purple border and black seam in the middle? That's our goal. Run for that door. Knock over anybody that gets in your way. That's all you've gotta do."

"I...am...Groot!"

"I know you're scared, but the only way out is through," Rocket tapped the side of Groot's head, "Hey, listen. I'm not gonna leave you behind. Either we get out of this shithole or we go down together."

Metal banged somewhere.

" _I_  am Groot..."

"That's right. Together," Rocket's voice grew sharper with contagious energy, "Now, see the door?"

"I am Groot!"

"Right. That's the door. You can do this, Groot! You ready? You  _ready?_  You really ready? You gonna do this? You gonna run? Fuck yeah, let's do this. On three. Three, t-- gack!"

Groot reacted to the word  _three_. He pushed the energy of Rocket's voice into his legs and took off in a full-on sprint. Rocket ended up straddling the back of his neck and grabbing his head.

"I-- didn't-- finish-- my-- countdown-- you-- idiot!"

" **I**  am  _GROOT!_ "

As Groot raced single-mindedly towards the silver doors Rocket pointed to, his peripheral vision picked up the prisoners in their cells. Many rocked back and forth. Some flicked their hands near their eyes. Others screamed excitedly when he ran by.

Everyone in this prison had different brains from the 'average' people of their species. How many existed in this place because of their difference? How many actually committed a crime at all?

These were the prisoners Rav and Peth wanted to change with their  _therapy_. Well, Groot hoped the whole plan got thrown out after this!

Eight Kree security guards appeared. They fanned out in a circle, surrounding him. Groot blindly impaled one on a vine from his right arm and roared as he spun around, bashing the faceless being into the other seven. He hurled the guard he pierced at the security drones buzzing overhead. The bodies hardly registered as people to him in his frenzied state. He forgot about them the moment he retracted his arm.

Rocket back-flipped off Groot's neck and pilfered two laser pistols from a guard. He shot down the buzzing security drones. More came to replace them. They never relented!

Groot bolted forward again.

"No, you idiot, not that way! Go right!" Rocket pointed and kept prompting, "That door! That door! THAT door!"

Running towards  _that door_  was the only thing Groot thought about. Direction didn't matter-- he could dash straight up a wall and not even know it. His vision was blurred. Colors ran together. Sounds blended until voices and noises sounded the same. Gray numbness continued prickling at his back. Rage bubbled in his stomach. He sprinted like he wanted to flee himself.

Silver doors loomed closer. Groot yelled at the top of his lungs to shut out the external stimuli of gunfire and flashes. Rocket's pistols ran out of laser cells as they approached their destination. Groot slammed his head against it, desperate to get away from the grayness looming at the back of his brain.

Bullets flashed and twanged off the door. He used his body to shield Rocket. The ammunition hitting his back gave him a vague sense of his body's borders in relation to the environment.

"I  **am**   _GROOT!_ "

"Yeah! Almost got it!" Rocket twisted wires apart and remarried them in varying configurations until the door sprang open. "The drones'll stop shooting once we're in!"

Groot stumbled past the threshold, his brain still reeling from the noise. The drones stopped firing and the scary grayness began shrinking. He escaped it this time. Relieved, he hugged himself and squeezed his upper arms until he felt sure of their presence on his body.

They made it into the docking bay. The lights were mostly off and the air felt colder than the muggy prison. A rectangular white cargo ship sat all by itself in the darkness.

"Good j--" Rocket caught himself when Groot stiffened, "Forget it. You know you did fine. Damn, Groot, you're one hell of a fighter when you get pissed!"

Now  _that_  felt like a genuine compliment!

"I am  _Groot_ ," Groot beamed.

"We  _are_  a damn good team, aren't we?" Rocket grinned back. He went serious again and gestured to the ship's airlock, "Look, there's gonna be guards waiting behind the airlock. They'll shoot first and ask questions second, so take 'em out quick. Ready?"

" _I_   ** _am_**  Groot."

Rocket's claws plunked on the metal floor as they approached the ship's airlock. He counted down with his fingers, then yanked the manual lever. Three armored guards poured out. Groot got shot in the stomach twice, but it only stung. He dispatched the men easily, his vines hurling them into the main prison as the inner airlock doors slammed shut.

"Please! Don't hurt me! I-I've got a family-- four children and a wife! I'm their only income! P-please!"

A uniformed Krylorian man walked into the docking hatch with his hands clasped on the back of his head. Tears streaked his red face. Behind him, Rocket kept one of the ship guard's laser rifles pointed at his back. His dark gray fingertip started to squeeze the trigger.

Groot raced towards Rocket and grasped the rifle's nozzle, pushing it aside.

Rocket rolled his eyes. "Fine, ya big sap. Get rid of him. I don't wanna hear him whine."

Groot guided the whimpering pilot towards the inner airlock. After examining all the labels on the wall, he reached out and pulled the manual lever to open the door. He shoved the hapless pilot into the main prison where he would meet up with his guards. Pushing the lever upwards shut the door once again.

"Groot! Let's go!" Rocket called.

Groot joined Rocket at the cargo ship's helm. Rocket triggered the bay doors to open. He stood still a moment, blinking at the speckled blackness outside. It occurred to Groot that this was Rocket's first time seeing stars with his own two eyes.

"I am Groot?"

"Yeah, they are, but aren't they supposed to twinkle?"

Laughing, Groot shook his head no. Stars themselves didn't change brightness unless they were the variable type. A planet's atmosphere wobbled like water, which distorted the light to create the illusion of twinkling.

"I am  _Groot_ ," he explained that fact.

"Oh. Hey, I didn't know that. For real?"

" _I_   **am**  Groot."

"Heh! Ready, smartass?"

At Groot's nod, Rocket hopped into the pilot's seat and grabbed the control stick. How he knew what to do looked like magic. The engines rumbled online. He flicked a final switch and the ship shot forward into the void.

"We're about to get shot at," Rocket stated. His fingers rippled on the control stick as he adjusted his grip, "This might get loud."

Yellow lasers criss-crossed the stars. Rocket jerked the supply ship to the left, the right, upwards and downwards. He pulled a hard hairpin left and the space station hung like a gold wheel above the crescent of a purplish planet. Blinding blue lights shaped eerily like puzzle pieces lined the space station's outermost edges.

"GAAAAH!" Rocket snarled, steering the cargo vessel at one of the station's spoke-like pylons.

Groot processed the action in brief snapshots of color and noise. Upon seeing the pylon looming, he ducked behind the pilot's seat in terror.

Rocket leaned sideways and the ship turned at the last second. He spiraled it around that pylon, making the turrets lining it target another pylon. Yellow flashed and both sets of turrets destroyed each other along with several of the blue lights.

"Yeah! Suck it!" Rocket crowed, "You doin' okay, Groot?"

"I am... _Gr-o-o-o-o-t!_ "

"Me, too. It's about to get wild, so hang on!"

More yellow pierced the darkness. Rocket spat a string of curses. The ship jolted so hard Groot lost his balance and fell flat on his butt. Lights flickered. Alarms pierced his ears like ice picks to his brain.

"Subject 89P13," a deep voice crackled over the communications line, "return to the supply bay immediately or we will be forced to destroy you."

"My name's Rocket now," Rocket laughed and circled the main control tower. The weapons systems couldn't fire without risking the tower too, and he knew it. He punched the ship straight upward away from the station and the planet below it, "Now  _kiss my_ \--"

Suddenly, an impact. The ship reeled. Groot curled up in a ball, clutching his head.

"Hang in there, Groot!" Rocket hollered over the noise.

Smoke filled the flight deck. The ship shuddered, groaned and jerked. Crackling noises indicated tiny space rocks striking the hull. Rocket had to maneuver around mountain-sized asteroids spinning in the blackness. Two nearly sandwiched the vessel flat!

They came upon a massive, craggy asteroid. Too big to dodge!

"Ah, shit!" snarled Rocket, "We're going in!"

Groot's heart nearly crawled up his throat as the ship zipped into a charcoal gray tunnel, turned corners, scraped rocks and emerged once again among the stars.

No more asteroids awaited ahead. They escaped alive!

Rocket typed several commands into the blue touch-screen console. His shoulders were heaving. He couldn't stop snickering.

Groot watched the remaining smoke curl and swirl around everything as it dissipated into the air. The alarms stopped screaming. Outside the front windows, nothing but stars and dust.

"See that, Groot?" Rocket pointed straight ahead, "We're free!" His lips curled off his white fangs when he grinned, "We're friggin' free! Hah-hah! We're...wait, I'm naked here," his whole face lit up with laughter, "I just ran through a prison full of people with all my junk hanging out. Is that batshit crazy or what?"

Well, yes, standing upright utilized different muscles and certain parts of Rocket's anatomy  _were_  hanging out. Groot tried to find humor in that, yet couldn't.

They just broke a whole lot of rules. Being so conditioned to follow them left Groot terrified of the consequences. He wanted to experience Rocket's joy so desperately, but he felt scared instead. Scared that he would never see food or water again. Scared that he would cause Rocket more suffering. Scared that he could no longer be  _himself_  without getting punished for it.

"I...am Groot," he pressed both hands over his mouth.

"Yeah, I need to find some-- huh?" Rocket noticed Groot's frightened expression, "Nobody's gonna take your water away for this, Groot," he laughed again, slapping the console, "We're free! So, you're thirsty? C'mon, we're on a supply ship. Let's go find the water. Maybe we'll find me some clothes, too."

He hopped off the pilot's seat, using his head to beckon towards the back, "C'mon."

And for the first time in a long while, Groot was able to eat and drink as much as he wanted without performing a task or obeying commands.

The last apple went down sweet. Groot settled back in the co-pilot's seat with a satisfied smile because that snack hit the spot.

"Feel better?" Quill asked-- not because he'd been trained to, but because he genuinely cared about the answer.

"I am Groot," Groot replied with a nod. He glanced at the pilot's seat. Quill followed his eyes. Rocket slumped sideways, his arms still crossed stubbornly across his chest. His head rose and fell slightly as he breathed in the rhythm of deep sleep.

"Heh, he's wiped out. I don't think he slept at all since Drax brought you back onto the ship. I saw him keeping an eye on you while you were asleep. Same thing you were doing for him in the hospital."

Hearing that sent a warmth coursing along Groot's battered nerve endings. He didn't conceal his smile or the happy little wriggle that followed.

"I betcha you're sore from sitting in that chair so long. You wanna go for a walk around the ship?"

Groot peered at the data pad. His mind assembled the meanings he wanted to convey before he started typing. It happened slowly due to his fingertip occasionally tapping unwanted letters.

**There is disconnects between my brain and body. I can't locates my body parts and my body parts doesn't wants to does what I tells them when I tells them to. Sometimes I can't remembers how to does things when this happens. Walks is too hard right now. It is more safes if I stays here.**

Then he waited for the pitying look. He saw it twitch only briefly on Quill's face before it got squelched with understanding.

"You're the boss, Groot."

**Isn't you the leaders of us?**

Quill slapped himself in the forehead, chuckling, "No, I mean...gah, Earth saying. 'You're the boss' means you're in charge of what you want."

Something wicked twinkled in Groot's eyes. He twisted to look at Drax when he heard him venture onto the flight deck.

 **Drax, I has messages of importance,**  Groot typed slowly, telling the data pad to speak each word as he completed it.

"Yes, my friend?"

**You are the boss.**

Drax's forehead wrinkled. He cocked his head, "I have been appointed leader now?"

Half-stifled laughter turned Quill's face bright red. His mirth spread to Groot. Drax just looked between them, baffled, and that made it funnier.

It was Gamora who became the unwitting catalyst. Her simple question and Drax's confused answer turned the suppressed snickers into explosive guffaws.

"On who's authority?"

Drax shrugged, "Theirs?"

Groot and Quill doubled over.

Rocket slept through the whole thing.

.o

Dim lights illuminated the  _Milano's_  kitchen area. Well-rested and alert, Groot sat at the table Quill directed him to. The past forty-eight hours had been utterly exhausting. They were the only awake people on the ship.

 **Quill,**  Groot typed carefully as Quill rummaged about by the stove.

"Hm?"

Now for the hard question. Groot figured asking it right away meant saving himself the tension later.

**Does you thinks less of me?**

"Less of you? Why?"

Many people assumes I am not intelligence when they sees what I am really likes. Sometimes I feels as if I only seems intelligence to you when I am uses this devices.

**I am so uses to being treats as a not-person that I doesn't gets surprises when it happens to me. I am self-aware enough to knows how I looks to others people. I sees you and I assumes your competence and intelligence, but I am tires of people not assumes the same when they looks backs at me.**

The data pad's robotic voice didn't convey the weight of Groot's words or the emotion behind them, and he wasn't sure if his facial expression reflected it either.

"You're right. I'm trying not to, but...yeah, I do. I'm sorry," Quill set down the supplies he'd gathered and turned around, "I'm really trying to imagine how you experience the world, and I can't. What makes you tick? What do you feel? How do you think?"

Important questions. Questions from someone trying desperately to understand his experiences rather than make assumptions about them based on observations. A smile twitched across Groot's face. There and gone in an instant.

**I can makes one things simples for you. I has the same emotions you has but I can't always controls my responses to them. They shows from my expressions and my body languages.**

"Is that why you...I dunno..." Quill performed an interesting approximation of hand flapping, "do that?"

 **Yes, sometimes.**  Groot nodded emphatically, amused by the attempt.

"Then why do you only do it some of the time? Like right now, you're sitting so still."

A question Groot had to think about. He searched the keypad as if it would present answers if he stared long enough. Finally, he let his index finger alight each carefully-chosen letter.

**Finds words for this is hard but I try. All of the motions I does that seems strange to you has purposes. Some of them helps me focus and some of them is soothes for me.**

**Pretends you has a very upsets days and you wants to relax so you does targets practice or you listens to your music until you feels calms. My moves around is same things. My nerves gets upsets and excites very easy when they are stimulates, so I needs to does those moves to channels it until my nerves calms down again. Takes those motions away and I feels like my nerves is burns with acid. I needs to wiggles some of the times to stays comfortable and focus.**

**If I gets sick I feels more stimulations from insides on tops of what comes from outsides. I needs more copes mechanisms to withstands it. My wiggles doesn't always means I am uncomfortable. Sometimes they express what I feels. I likes to jumps or bounces and flaps my hands when I feels happy.**

**I uses to makes lots of noises with my voices but I doesn't as much around other people because of what happens to me on Halfworld. They try to turns me into something I am not. They abuses me to teach me my naturals is bad and I can only gets treats as a person if I acts indistinguishable from the average populations. It is very hard to unlearns something that causes me lots of pains and afraid.**  

The silence afterward was strangely thunderous. Groot waited for the understanding to start dawning in Quill's expression. Gradually, it did. Quill's brow furrowed and smoothed again. He glanced at his hands, linked his fingers together and exhaled noisily through his nose.

"You're safe with us, Groot. I promise you that."

Quill's words carried an air of genuine caring. Everything in Groot's mind wanted to fully believe it.

**I knows in my brain. My body doesn't agrees and my body wins. That is why I can't speaks like you.**

"Yeah...it's gotta be frustrating as hell to have a gazillion words in your head when you can't say 'em."

Groot grunted softly, his fingertip slowly illuminating the 'keys' on the touch-screen. It was starting to recognize the words he used the most often and presented word options after one or two letters were typed.

**I does not thinks with words, Quill. That is why I writes silly. I approximates what my thinks means because it is more fast than try to gets it perfects.**

"Uh...wait, no words at all?"

"I am Groot," Groot replied, typing,  **The only words I hears are memory of things people has says to me. I does not hears my own voices in my head when I thinks. I conveys meanings when I speaks and Rocket is translates them to words you can understands.**

**When I says "I am Groot" I am says syllables that sounds like a sentences. I am talks fine if I am talks to other Flora Colossi, but I gets considers nonverbal by aliens because I doesn't uses words same way you does. I am okay with being calls nonverbal by aliens because to them I am.**

Excitement wormed through Groot's nerves as he responded viscerally to the words he typed. He paused to rock and slap his hands together a few times, actions that literally shook the sensations away. Upon regaining inner equilibrium again, he stilled and resumed typing.

"I--  _AM_  Groot," he rumbled, touching the green arrow icon.

**It only gets bad when aliens puts low functions or severe disables on tops of it. Those labels is outsides observes that changes how I gets treats by others. Then aliens thinks it is okay to assumes nonverbal means non-thinks and incompetence too. My choices gets takes away because it gets assumes I doesn't knows what is goods for me.**

"I hear you on that," Quill was nodding and leaning forward a little, something Groot learned meant interest, "You definitely aren't stupid, Groot. Um...can I ask you something?"

Groot indicated the affirmative. Questions were good.

Shifting, Quill rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Trying to figure out how to ask this without coming off like an asshole," he mumbled, "Um, what about people who're, I dunno, high functioning? People who can talk, but get awkward? Like, look at Drax...I think he's got  _something_  going on.

"I mean, I get the whole 'missing metaphors' thing, but have you seen him get up in the middle of the night and do pushups? Or how he'll stare at his knives? It's kind of weird."

**Drax has same neurology things as me. I does not knows if it is normal neurology for his people likes it is for mine.**

"He does? But..."

Groot held up a finger to make Quill wait while he typed his response.

**High functions or mild is just as bad because somebody has to lives up to that labels all the time.**

**Drax can hides his being different because he can speaks and follows conversations, but has you sees how he acts when two people argues rights next to him? He flinches because the loud voices hurts and makes him forgets how to speaks until they stops. His exercises serves same purposes as my rocks or flaps and he looks at his knives same ways I looks at fractals. Those is soothes to him.**

**Drax says social situations confuses him, but people likes him gets scoffs at if they admits to struggles because they doesn't seems that different from their peers. Remembers, this is accords to outside observes. People likes Drax gets calls 'high functions' and are expects to be indistinguishable from peers, so when they shows they are different they gets ignores as being lazy or rude or tells they are not try hard enough. That feels very bad to hears if people says you always falls short because you doesn't try when you are try your most hard to does what is expects of you!**  

Groot glanced across the table, watching Quill digest his words. He smiled delightedly when he saw dawning comprehension and kept typing.

**Everybody 'functions' different in different situations. The ways I sees it is disables people are only accepts as long as they doesn't inconvenience not-disables people, so anybody with disables that requires lots of helps is a burdens and a nuisances. That is not fairs to them because nobody asks to has different ability. Nobody is useless burdens!**

**I thinks functions labels are useless observes makes by not-disables people bases on how much helps somebody needs. Functions labels creates stupid assumes that are wrongs a lots of the times, and I very much hates them!**  

Every single wheel inside Quill's head was turning. His eyes lit up as the relevance of Groot's words sank into his brain.

"I totally get that. Man! I sure as hell wouldn't like it if somebody called me severely retarded or a low-functioning cripple...sorry if that came off offensive."

He drummed lightly on the tabletop with both hands, mimicking the rhythms from his music tapes. A nervous gesture, something he utilized to collect his thoughts.

"Can I ask another question?"

"I am Groot!" Groot rumbled in delight and typed,  **Pleases, asks all you wants. That is how you learns and I wants to teach.**

He saw Quill's shoulders visibly relax, as if relieved to know he wasn't being a bother.

"You said you don't hear words when you think...so how  _do_  you think, then? How does your brain work?"

I will makes you does thinks like I does right now. Thinks of a person you loves very much.

Quill's eyes immediately lost focus. Sadness flashed in his expression and Groot immediately knew the person being thought of wasn't among the living.

"Thinking about my mom."

Groot watched him through the corner of his eye.

 **Now removes the words. Thinks about what she looks likes, how she smells, how soft her skins is, the sounds of her voice and the tastes of a foods she cooks.**   **Thinks of a moments with her. Thinks of what you sees and how you feels when you thinks of that moments. Doesn't try to names anything. Feels it. Experiences it. That is how I thinks all the times.**

A lump welled in his throat upon seeing tears brim in Quill's eyes. The man who called himself Star-Lord inhaled deeply, wiped at the corners of his eyes with his thumb and index finger and sighed. Understanding was there, plain as day.

"I didn't take her hand," he mumbled, "She wanted me to take her hand. I should've."

Groot cocked his head, " _I_  am Groot?" Then he remembered and typed it instead,  **What happens?**

"She died," Quill let his palms slap down on the tabletop. "What if taking her hand would've let her live another week? What  _if_ , Groot?"

Groot laid his right hand on Quill's wrist. The left brushed the touch-screen again.  **What if it makes no different? She knows you loves her whether you takes her hands or not.**

A tendon at the base of Quill's thumb twitched. He pulled away abruptly and got up, sniffing.

"Yeah, you're probably right." His voice went from husky to normal again after he cleared his throat, "Hey, stay here, okay? You were sleeping when I did this for Rocket. Now it's your turn."

He finished gathering the supplies and the stove whirred on.

 **What are you does?**  Groot arched a brow-ridge.

"Just a sec and I'll show you." Quill poured something into the pan on the stove. It sizzled, releasing a new smell into the room, "Juuuust a sec, Groot."

Amused, Groot propped his elbows on the tabletop and waited.

"My mom liked to make me pancakes whenever I got over being sick," Quill said as he flopped a disk-shaped brown thing on the plate in front of Groot. He smiled impishly, "I made one so you can check it out how you like to check things out. I'm gonna make more and show you how to eat 'em."

Groot waited instinctively for Quill to face the stove again before he examined this strange new item. The soft, spongy round thing felt akin to a floppy foam pillow and smelled...unique. It created faint thumping noises when tapped and tasted rather plain.

But he  _really_  liked its fluffiness. He tilted his head back and repeatedly dropped the pancake onto his face to relish the texture. The little plopping noises of pancake hitting his bark proved endlessly funny, so he laughed softly each time he heard it. Nearby, Quill made noises with his mouth that imitated the music he often listened to while manipulating the sizzling pan on the stove.

"Okay, these pancakes are almost-- oh, pancake facial,  _nice_."

" _I_  am Groot," Groot muffled around the pancake on his face. Finally, he pushed the entire thing into his mouth and ate it plain. He leaned over and typed out an idea. Because now he could share it in a manner more than just Rocket could understand.

**What if we makes entire mattress out of pancakes? Eats some when you wakes up and you never needs to worry about breakfasts again.**

"W-what?" Quill cackled and stifled himself with his hand, "What's a person supposed to do when they eat the whole thing?"

"I am  _Groot_ ," Groot squinted like it was obvious. He followed his declaration by typing,  **Simple. Makes another pancakes mattress.**

"That's a loooot of pancake batter."

**Yes, and?**

"Logistics, man! Logistics. Okay, the first set's done. You ready?"

Groot nodded eagerly.

Quill stacked three pancakes on the plain white plate and carefully set down the silverware so it wouldn't clang. A jar of syrup and butter in a dish were taken out next.

"The trick to make pancakes taste best is butter in between and syrup on top. Here, take the knife and I'll show you. Rocket says you learn best if I move your hands, so...yeah! Cool. Ready?" Quill guided Groot's hand through slicing off a thin square of butter and spreading it atop the topmost pancake and the ones underneath.

"Okay, let's put the knife down. Syrup next. Here's how my mom did it. You make circles like this. One for you. One for me. One for the future."

He led Groot's hands to pour the thick golden-brown liquid. A small circle in the very center, a larger circle further out and the largest circle around the outermost edges. The syrup spread to both fill in the spaces between the circles and dribbled off the sides of the pancakes to pool on the plate. Like families who grew inward through yesterdays and stretched outward through tomorrows.

Groot sensed the love Quill had for his mother radiating off him as he spoke each word. He didn't hide his smile at the warmth encircling his heart.

"Which hand to you like to use? Left? Gotcha. Here's the best part. Take the fork and flip it sideways. Now push down," Quill patiently helped Groot cut out a bite-sized wedge and swish it in the syrup pooled on the plate, "Now flip it right side up and poke that piece..." He showed him how to right the fork and pushed his hand towards his mouth, "There you go. Take a bite."

Groot's mouth closed on the syrupy fluff. He froze. His eyes widened at the cornucopia of sensory information. Softness, sweetness and a little salty all in one gooey place! He never knew these ingredients could come together into something so fantastic!

It tasted like the love between a mother and child.

"Heh, heh!" Quill dished up his own pancakes, "you like that, Groot?"

A delighted rumble was Groot's wordless answer. He bent to bring his eyes level with the pancakes and carefully puzzled over how to make the next cut.

"Oh, you made pancakes again?" Rocket yawned as he wandered out of the bunks sans a shirt. His fur was still tousled from sleep. Four quick swipes of his hand smoothed it out. Sort of.

"Yep," Quill buttered his own pancakes and poured on the syrup the same way he showed Groot. "Groot just found out he likes them. You want some?"

"Eh, sure."

Quill got up to put the pan on the stove again. Rocket hopped onto the just-vacated chair and claimed the silverware.

"Hey!"

"What?" Rocket looked over his shoulder, "You're making more. I--whoops. Groot, you stuck?" He got up to guide Groot's hand through the action of pushing his fork through the pancakes and cut them up into proper bites.

Quill scooped away the plate Rocket almost commandeered and set it on the counter. Yet the moment he turned away from it, Drax picked it up while yawning.

"Ah, pancakes! These are quite delicious. How nice of you to make them."

"That's--"

"Yes, a very thoughtful gesture," Gamora snagged the plate of two Quill had just dished up, "Thank you."

"Next three are mine!" Rocket gestured to the empty spot next to Groot, "Just stick 'em over here."

He perched on the seat by Groot when his plate arrived.

Poor Quill  _finally_  had the peace to make his own pancakes and join everyone at the table.

Groot noticed they all poured their syrup in circles like he was taught moments ago. Drax preferred his knife over the silverware. He leaned backwards, rummaged in the refrigeration unit and resettled with the red sauce Quill often had imported from Terra.

"Ketchup on pancakes?" Quill raised an inquiring brow.

Drax stared at Quill's forehead and squeezed a red line across his own pancakes. The bottle made a flatulent noise. He made another pass to draw an X. Once more, the bottle rattled.

Groot, who thought farts were the funniest thing in the universe, erupted in hilarity. That led Quill to egg him on by making similar sounds with his lips and tongue.

Gamora rolled her eyes at him.

Rocket snorted, clanking his fork, "Nice going. You broke Groot."

"Yep! Sure did," Quill grinned.

"Hmph." Drax spread the ketchup on his topmost pancake with his knife, cut out a chunk and ate it. He polished off the contents of his plate faster than everyone else, mostly because he hardly paused to talk.

"So, Drax," Quill started talking with his mouth full, "Groot and I just had a great convo."

"About what?"

"Thinking."

Drax wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, "And?"

 **I explains how I thinks to Quill,**  Groot typed while chewing,  **I teach him that I doesn't thinks with words. What does your thinks looks like? Does you sees pictures?**

"Mm, my thoughts are rarely images," Drax set his knife down after licking the ketchup off it and rested his elbows on the table, "I see and hear the words as though reading off a page."

"What happens when you think about, say..."

 **Thinks about a pretty sunset,**  Groot cut in.

A wrinkle creased Drax's brow. He adjusted his positioning in his seat. "My mind conjures up the words to describe it. Why?"

Groot clapped his hands together and shot Quill a smile, unaware of the curious look Rocket and Gamora exchanged.

**We thinks so opposites! Is that why you has troubles with metaphors?**

"Perhaps," Drax shrugged one shoulder, "I find it difficult to imagine an image, so a gesture like this," he drew his finger across his throat, "which Quill says is a symbol for slicing someone's throat to kill them, is utterly meaningless to me. Idioms present the same issue. Like two days ago, when Rocket said something was a piece of cake."

Rocket snorted loudly, "What if I said you're a cocksucker?"

"I don't suck on cock meat, I eat it like any other decent person."

Groot almost dropped his fork. Quill squirted milk through his nose. Rocket slapped himself on the knees and howled with laughter. Gamora shot them both a dirty look.

"Drax," Quill squeaked out, "Cock-- is-- another word for-- HAHA!-- penis!"

Drax sneered and flung his napkin at Rocket.

"You set yourself up for that one!" Rocket kept guffawing until he regained control of himself.

"Children," Gamora shook her head. She daintily finished her pancakes and pushed her plate away. "To anyone who is still sensible at this table-- my thought processes utilize both words and my five senses.

"Same," chortled Rocket.

"Me, too," Quill finally stopped laughing enough to clean the milk dribbles off his face.

Drax scowled at Rocket once more before refocusing on Groot. He smoothed his demeanor and asked, "My friend, how does your wrist feel?"

Groot ate the last bite of his pancakes and lifted his right hand. Black rope still encircled his forearms as a bite deterrent. There was some random all-over aching, however it wasn't overpowering his senses anymore.

"I  **am**   _Groot_."

He typed on the data pad,  **I feels better, thanks you.**

"Ah, I'm pleased to know you're well again. Which reminds me-- I purchased something with you in mind. Just a moment, I will retrieve it."

Gamora took care of Drax's empty plate after he left the table. Rocket soon joined her at the sink.

"Done with that?" Quill asked Groot, who nodded. He got up with both plates.

Drax reappeared after many moments of noisy rummaging near the bunks. He showed Groot a small, stretchy coil of transparent tubing meant to go over a wrist or ankle.

"I purchased one for myself as well. I find it soothing to wrap around my fingers like this," he wrapped the coil tightly around his middle and ring fingers for demonstration's sake. Then he tugged it free and handed it over, "Though your fingers are different from mine, so you may discover a different use for it."

Naturally, Groot's first inclination was to sniff and bite the rubbery coil, which resisted his teeth despite its thinness. Even better, he could manipulate it with his tongue and squeeze his teeth between the coils. That felt  _amazing_.

"I am  _Gr-o-o-o-o-t_ ," he rumbled contentedly. On the data pad, he typed slowly,  **Thanks you, this is very much appreciates.**

Drax just smiled and retrieved his freshly-washed knife from the sink.

"Goin' topside," said Rocket. He tossed a towel on the countertop, "We'll be back at Xandar in five hours."

"On my way up too," Quill replied.

Their footsteps plunked up the staircase.

Gamora busied herself with putting the silverware away. Groot joined her to set the plates in the storage drawer under the sink. Determining personal space wasn't his strong suit, so he hardly flinched at standing hip-to-hip with her to perform the task. She, by contrast, scooted a half-step aside.

"Groot? You're putting the plates in upside down."

He glanced between her and the dishes. The open ends of the cups were facing downward, so he thought the plates went the same way. She turned the plates he already put inside over.

"They go that way."

Humies and humanoids did things so weird!

Finally the plates, silverware and condiments were stored safely in their proper homes. Groot beckoned Gamora to the table where the data pad lay and bent over it to type.

**I could not tells you this before. I understands the pains you endures. I was tortures too. Rocket tells you some about it, but not all.**

**Very, very bad people hurts me and Rocket very, very bad to changes my behaviors. They sex abuses me, they uses shocks collars on me and they uses shocks collars on Rocket to makes me compliance. I was beats and calls stupid every day for long times. I learns to gets very afraid to acts my own ways, but I am try to unlearns it. I am try to becomes myself again.**  

"That's terrible! How can you go through all of that without..." She hung her head and wiped her hair back off her shoulders, "...It's just, Rocket seems so bitter. Drax is bitter. Quill is a slightly less bitter. And I'm bitter. But you? You treat everyone with such compassion. You gave your _life_  for me, for us. How? How do you find such strength?"

Groot's eyes ghosted along her features. He sensed her gaze on him, but only met it briefly before looking down at the data pad again. His fingertip shifted to and fro on the touch-screen keyboard, lighting up letters as it went.

"I  _am_  Groot."

A tap on the green arrow icon made the data pad read his words aloud. He focused on an invisible point between Gamora's eyes while the robotic voice spoke.

**I gives compassions because I knows how no compassions feels. I doesn't wants to causes anybody else those hurts if I doesn't has to. We can chooses who we becomes. I doesn't wants to becomes the people who abuses me.**

"I am Groot?" Groot lifted one finger and added more text.

**You was needs a hugs days before yesterdays and I wasn't able to gives it to you. May I gives it to you now?**

He held his arms awkwardly outward, mimicking the way he saw Xandarians invite hugs. Gamora stepped closer without hesitation. He took her arms wrapping around his waist as a cue to encircle her shoulders with his own.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Warmth flooded Groot's chest. He tilted his head back with a bright smile and a wordless rumble. Gamora's cheek rounded against his chest. She was smiling too.

"Are you telling me you're happy?"

He nodded, still smiling.

"Good," she gave him a fantastic squeeze, "You deserve to be happy, Groot."

Groot freed a hand to touch the data pad.  **So does you, Gamora.**

Quill's music began playing faintly through the ship.  _Come and Get Your Love_  by Redbone. Groot recalled something Quill jokingly showed him during that particular song. He took hold of Gamora's hand and swayed her playfully to the beat.

"Oh!" Gamora gasped a little and tripped over his feet. She caught on to Groot's movements and pretty soon they stepped in tandem while the entire song played. Amusement bubbled into her voice, "This feels silly."

"I am Groot!" Groot chuckled, lifting her arm to twirl her and finishing with a dip.

Gamora was laughing when they straightened. Rather than jumble the experience with words, she patted his hand in silent gratitude and quietly headed for the flight deck.

"What's so funny?" Quill asked her.

"Groot danced with me," she answered.

"Hahah! He's got rhythm!"

Joy filled Groot's eyes because nothing felt better than making others happy. Especially people who had so many reasons to feel sadness or anguish.

And he remembered...

"It feels great to eat some real food," Rocket had said in the hours after their escape from the Halfworld prison-laboratory. A pile of bones and fruit peels lay on the floor next to him.

An agreeing hum floated off Groot's lips. They'd commandeered a fully-supplied cargo ship, so they had enough provisions to last a long while. He reached into the crate of delicious purple apples he spent the last half hour munching on. Their taste signaled total freedom, something he never thought he would see again.

" _I_  am  **Groot,** " Groot stuffed another apple into his mouth.

"He pissed himself? Haha!" Rocket slapped his knees, "Oh man, wish I'd seen that! The bastard deserved it!" His smile slipped just as quickly as it appeared, "They all deserved worse. Fuck 'em!"

Groot drank heartily from the spout of the water container. No more having to perform a task correctly to win such a basic bodily need. He beamed and let some of the water splatter on his face. The happiness flooded his nerves, yet he froze in terror at the same time.

"Groot?" Rocket sat up, "What's wrong?"

Just like they taught him, Groot immediately sat with his hands in his lap. He hung his head, ashamed.

"I... _am_  Groot."

Something in Rocket's dark eyes changed. He raced towards Groot and tugged on his left wrist.

"You want to flap those hands and wiggle around? Do it. Do it, Groot."

Trepidation created knots in Groot's chest. He inclined his head towards Rocket and lifted his eye ridges, which opened his eyes wider. A pleading look. One hand went to his own throat, feeling for the collar he removed yet still felt as a phantom sensation.

Rocket rested both hands on his chest, "D'you remember how we touched foreheads through the bars?"

His question received an affirmative nod.

"So lean over, gimme some forehead."

Groot did it, and Rocket's clawed hands touched the sides of his face.

"No more looking at peoples' eyes if you don't want to. No more 'quiet hands'. No more sitting still like a damn robot. If you wanna put things in your mouth to figure 'em out, do it. If you wanna flap your arms and laugh because it feels good, do it. You can still be who you were born to be. Don't twist yourself into what other people think you should be. Don't turn into  _me_."

Pain lanced across Rocket's words like a lightning strike. He pulled back to stare at his reflection in a metal bulkhead. Clad only in a pair of tight black prison-issue shorts he'd found in a crate, he could see the silver implants near his shoulders shining beneath the overhead light he happened to be standing under.

"I dunno who I am," he murmured, "I got all this knowledge in my head...and I don't know who the hell I am!" His fur bristled. He punched and kicked the bulkhead, snarling, "Who  _am_  I?"

It dawned on Groot that Rocket felt as lost as he did. Worse, Rocket couldn't shed his implants and go back to being a simple woodland creature. What he saw would be his body for the rest of his life.

" _Who_  am I?" Rocket pressed his hands to the bulkhead he'd dented. The silver implants in his back stood out like shiny beacons, "Who am  _I?_ "

Even the most beautiful gardens started off as dirt. But a handful of seeds and some love?  _Anything_  was possible.

Groot pushed himself upright and stepped into the light so his reflection appeared behind Rocket's.

" **I**  am Groot."

"I know that."

Groot shook his head. He scooped Rocket up, placed him on his shoulder and gestured to their image on the bulkhead.

" ** _I_**  am Groot."

Seeing the realization dawn in Rocket's eyes was better than any sunrise.

"You're my friend," he whispered, repeating what Groot told him, "Yeah, Groot, you're right. I'm your friend."

" _I_  am  _Groot?_ " Groot held up his pinkie finger and flashed his friendliest smile.

Rocket grinned back and grabbed the outstretched fingertip, "You bet. Always, really and forever."

Stars speckled the blackness outside the side window. Groot knew his home planet spun around one of them. Did it survive, or had it been destroyed? Were there any living Flora Colossi left in the universe? Once again, unknown.

Rather than despair, he held tightly to the hope that others survived while promising himself to live as if he was the last. The possibility tasked him with upholding his people's legacy.

Having Rocket by his side meant he wouldn't face it alone.

Dust motes floated near the light above the recreation area table. Groot blinked, his dark eyes peering around the deserted space still echoing with remnants of pancakes and friendly voices. He placed his feet carefully on the steps to ascend into the flight deck.

Quill laughed raucously, "Seriously? You can't roll your tongue?"

"Why does it matter?" Drax grumbled.

"Because people who can't do it have different genes...or something."

"Well duh, we're aliens to each other. Plus, you jackasses haven't seen anything till you've seen Groot's tongue. Hey, Groot!" Rocket leaned around the back of his chair, "Show 'em that tongue trick."

Shrugging, Groot opened his mouth and let his vine-like tongue extend as far as it went. The pointed tip touched his chest. Then he abruptly lifted it upward so the tip rested atop his head, curled it into a spiral and sucked it back into his mouth.

Quill's eyes practically bugged out of his skull. He burst out laughing and clapped his hands. "AHAHA! Holy shit! Think of the women you could--" at Rocket's glare, he sobered, "sorry. Can you close your mouth and stick it out like this?" And out popped his tongue again.

Sticking his tongue through his closed lips was impossible. Groot's mouth opened automatically whenever he extended his tongue. In the same vein, he couldn't whisper either. The signal that formed his mouth into the syllables he could string together also closed his vocal cords for phonation.

"I am  _Groot_ ," he shrugged, amused.

"You and your obsession with tongues, Quill," muttered Rocket.

"Very impressive!" Drax exclaimed with genuine admiration.

Groot glanced at Gamora when she didn't think anyone was looking-- and she easily rolled her tongue. She arched an eyebrow at herself and rested her cheek against her fist.

Groot decided the flight deck was too noisy right now, so he retreated downstairs again. Something on his right wrist caught his attention. He glanced down. A white flower had pushed stubbornly between two loops of rope and spiraled its funnel-shaped corolla open to reveal a feathery red center. He didn't will its growth. It grew there by itself.

Fascinated, Groot paused beside the table where he ate breakfast mere minutes ago and waved that hand before his eyes. The flower swayed gently like a revelation.

And it hit him fully, right then: His friends saw him at his worst while that flower grew in secret. They witnessed everything Halfworld tried to destroy. They accepted him and wanted his friendship. They recognized his competence. He didn't have anything to prove anymore. He could be completely himself around them without fear.

Two days of miserable pain yielded something beautiful in more ways than one.

All gardeners dealt with thorns, storms and weeds, but how they handled those difficulties determined the fate of their plants. And it wasn't a one-off process. Beautiful gardens required constant effort.

In the end, each gardener had the final say in their inner garden's outcome. Groot decided his spent far too long hidden behind a fence. While he didn't feel ready to tear that fence down and bare himself to the entire universe just yet, he knew leaving the gate open for his friends wasn't so awful.

Content in his silent revelation, Groot happily gnawed the clear coil Drax gave him. He caught his reflection in the refrigeration unit. Who he used to be gazed back. Something inside him ignited. All the energy of the universe thrummed through his cells like the electricity jumping between every nerve ending.

He rocked back and forth with a delighted rumble. Not enough; this feeling called for more. Both hands rose to caress the intangible photons emanating from the overhead light. He spun around to see how his fingers stayed clear while the environment went blurry.

Everything about the air on his fingertips, the speed he spun, the squish of the coil he chewed on and thrum from his own voice humming brought him ecstasy. His movements swirled the peaceful dust motes into fascinating new formations. He felt tiny like one of them and simultaneously as immense as the universe itself.

Inside, outside, darkness and brightness.

Flowing, revolving, opening and closing.

Blurry, focused, moving and still.

Groot froze in position, his arms outstretched and his smiling visage lit softly from above. He let the emotion build to unbearable levels before resuming his twirling. All around him, his inner garden bloomed like the blossom on his right wrist.

Imprisoned, liberated, leaving and returning.

Repeating, repeating, again and again.

Freedom, welcome, complete and renewed.

Vibrations of hummed music became his sole reality. Euphoria shaped his voice and emotion directed his spin. He twirled through  _forever_  with visions of spiral galaxies and colorful fractals. His senses sang to the universe and the universe sang back. The ecstasy of being alive-- completely  _alive_ , right now, in  _this_  moment --could not be contained.

Dizzy now, Groot toppled backwards without letting the overhead light leave his gaze. He laid on the smooth metal floor, contentedly watching a single dust mote float past his face. Just like the  _Milano_  journeying through the vastness of space.

For a minute, he wondered if tiny aliens lived inside that dust mote, and if they did, had they come to the same realization he just now experienced? And did the dust motes inside that ship contain even tinier aliens achieving self-discovery? Were there giant aliens who saw this universe as a single dust mote in a light beam?

And if so...in both cases...did they eat pancakes? Surely they ate pancakes. Everybody needed to eat pancakes!

Then he got up and spun some more.

What a joy it was to simply  _be_.

.o

.o

_"...If you want, then start to laugh,_  
_if you must, then start to cry--_  
_be yourself, don't hide._  
_Just believe in destiny!_  
_Don't care what people say!_  
_Just follow your own way!_  
_Don't give up and use the chance_  
_to return to innocence..."_

\--Enigma, "Return to Innocence"

**Author's Note:**

> This version of Groot uses Tumblr! He's [nonverbaltree](http://nonverbaltree.tumblr.com) and he blogs like any other Tumblr user.


End file.
